The Return of the Prodigal Mom

I just got back into town from being away for four days on vacation with my cousin, M. (Only my own bottom to wipe for four days....ah....nirvana.) I just knew when I drove up to my house the kids were going to go CRAZY and run out to the car and cover me with kisses and hugs and "PLEASE DON'T LEAVE US AGAINs" and "WE LOVE YOU MOMMYs". I pulled in and layed on the horn, put the mini-van (Honda Mom-Mobile) in park, got out, and readied myself for the blast of affection I was about to receive. (I do, after all, spend my entire life caring for their every whim and need. I know that my leaving for four days must have been excruciatingly painful for them. My welcome was sure to be a tearful and joyful reunion!) Finally, after I honked the horn AGAIN, the husband and kids sauntered out the house onto the porch (looking a little irritated at having to leave the air conditioner to welcome me). They all said, "Hey" in a rather obligatory manner and then The Boy yelled across the driveway, "Mom....why did your carriage ride last SO long?" (Okay - I remember telling him that I was going to Charleston and that I was going on a carriage ride. Apparently, The Boy thought I had been on a carriage ride the whole time. What the hell did he think I was doing...reenacting the friggin' Lewis and Clark Expedition?) So, I'm still standing there by the van and it becomes evident to me that the only effort any of them was going to make to welcome me home was to step out of the front door. (What, no banners? No balloons? Flowers?) They certainly were not about to go all out and come down the steps! So I ran across the driveway, up the steps, grabbed the little ones up, and asked, "Did you miss me?" My husband smiled and said nothing, but I could tell that he was silently contemplating whether or not now would be a good time to ask if he could go play golf. I silently told him back, Oh hell no! My Big Girl kissed my cheek. The Princess said nothing. The Boy said, "Not bad and not much, but a little bit." I'll take it.

I decided to show my appreciation for all my husband, my parents, and friends had done with the kids to make my trip possible, so I made a big dinner for all of them: fried chicken (it was going to be grilled but a severe thunderstorm rolled in right as I found the charcoal), pasta salad, big green salad, the works. Needless to say, any effort like that takes a lot of prep and cookware to pull off. I was exhausted from the trip, worn out from prep work and cooking, and all my husband could say when he came into the kitchen right before I put the meal on the table was, "This kitchen didn't look THIS bad the whole time you were gone." Sigh.

Did I mention that there was also a raging forest fire a few miles from my house when I came home, too? Lightning struck a tree in the national forest nearby moments before I drove up. Coincidence?

Okay, so let's sum it up...no one really cared much that I had returned (did they even give a damn that I left?), they only missed me a "little bit", I was told that I did more damage in the kitchen in one meal than had been done in there in almost a week, and we had a monster storm roll in which, conveniently, put out a forest fire a few miles from my house. Welcome home, me.