I’ve brought up the disassembled crib from the basement; fished the mattress out from underneath the bed in the guest bedroom; blown up the twin bed mattresses and covered them with sheets and blankets; laundered and changed the sheets on the guest bed; and cleared space in the closets.
When did my child become “company”? When he has a wife and four boys; that’s when. They will spend the upcoming Easter weekend with us, and I couldn’t be more pleased. The boys are ages 2 through 7, so there will be chaos, commotion, and much ado. I’m going to love every minute of it.
I have two bins of toys in the hall closet. Those will be the first things they drag out. They love the old transformers and star wars toys, even though there are missing pieces. Actually, I think the fact that because these are broken toys that once belonged to their father and uncle, they enjoy playing with them even more. They will spread the joy all over the family room, perching Luke Skywalker on the bookcase next to Chewbacca and making up stories about them.
They will climb the stairs to my office and pick out books for me to read to them. Right now their favorites are the Crayon books: The Day the Crayons Quit and The Day the Crayons Came Home. I will read and read and read. Then, they’ll want a snack. Of course, there will be cookies, but also yogurt and fruit and celery and cherry tomatoes—all consumed with gusto.
Bath time! Oh, the splashing and the soap suds and the shampooing and the toy boats and the rubber duckies. If I’m lucky, I’ll get to be on tubbie duty and smell their little heads as they emerge sparkly clean from the bath water, ready for bed.
Church. The children’s service—their Aunt Amy will be giving the children’s sermon on Easter Sunday. But when that happens, I’ll know the visit is nearly over. Bittersweet ending.