A Monster is in the Closet and Family is Arriving. Ohdear.

It’s twenty to midnight. For some odd reason I have vegetables roasting in the oven to make ratatouille. Dishes are all clean. My hands smell like cleaning wipes because I’ve been cleaning one room at a time. There’s a bag of garbage set to go out on the stairs landing. Yeah, my Dad and Janice arriving on Friday afternoon and I so do not want them to arrive to a messy apartment that needs cleaning. Even worse, to feel like they’ve come TO clean.

Tomorrow it’s kitty litter and floors and laundry and … oh crap. The recycling. That’s a monster in a closet. I’m really quite good about recycling, in that I don’t throw those things in the garbage. But … I’m not so good about getting it OUT.

And yes I know they both read here. Don’t worry you two, I’m not going overboard. I’m not going totally nuts. It’s a healthy level of insanity. If I keep repeating that, does it make the statement true?

It hasn’t been all work tonight.

We played in the back yard with Samuel when we got home, in sweater-cool wind while the grey clouds gathered overhead in preparation for the washing we’re about to get tomorrow. We jumped on the trampoline, and chased crispy-dry pear leaves until they’d all fluttered to the ground. The boys were my blanket and teddy bear, snuggling one minute, then mischievously running away and instructing me to cry. I deliberately misinterpreted, and tried to fly, fry, try, lie, buy, you get the idea. They’d bounce around laughing, then throw themselves on me in a marvelous pile of giggles and snuggles. Then they decided it would be more fun to be monsters, and danced around me in ever-smaller circles shouting that I’d never catch them. Until I did. And everyone knows that tickles are what monsters fear the most. At some point they became superheroes bent on killing the bad guy … guess who that was? Then a really macabre chef and his assistant who turned me into a stew. All the while we were filling the back yard with all-out laughter.

I chatted with Nana for a bit on the phone once we were inside, and Cameron was in the tub. She doesn’t remember why her leg hurts, so I explained it to her. As always, she had things to be cheerful about. It was so cold outside, so she was glad to be inside, tucked in bed, under her warm puff.

Cameron fell asleep nestled in my arms before I’d read two pages of Bats at the Beach.

And I’ve been smiling all day, thinking of a lovely sunset walk along the seawall. That’s all I’m gonna say for now folks!

Now, it’s midnight. Time to toss the tomatoes in the oven, and get ready for bed, with the last step being turning off the oven and tossing the veggies into a big bowl. Supper for tomorrow just needs noodles.


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