As an empty nester couple, my husband and I are adapting
easily (a little too easily?) to the quiet that reigns in our household. Sure,
there’s usually music playing, and we chat constantly with the dog, but it is
very different from the constant hustle and bustle of having a bunch of kids in
the house. And then a holiday rolls around and the craziness comes with it.
We had our usual whirlwind Christmas chaos, with a quick
trip to Forest Lake for a Parenteau family gathering on Saturday, then a
Christmas Day event with two of the three kids. We all bumped together in the
kitchen, laughed and talked and snitched goodies off each other’s plates,
caught up on details of our lives and brought up the same old stories we tell
each year. Lots of teasing involved, all around.
My son Nick and his girlfriend Jess showed up just in time
for me to hand the gravy-making chores to him. He and I share a love of
cooking, so spending time comparing notes and taste-testing is always fun.
Matthew, the baby, came over Monday and just left this
morning (Wednesday). He is a joyful little punk to be around, a dreadful tease and
says things that make us laugh so hard. Today he stopped by Radio Works before
heading back to school in Sioux Falls, S.D., so we put him on the air for our
daily “This Day in History” segment. I beat him, but barely.
Sadly, we didn’t get to see our daughter and her little
family on Christmas Day. I understand the importance of having your kid wake up
in her own bed on Christmas morning, and even encouraged it. How dumb am I? I probably
could have guilted them into it.
By late afternoon on Christmas, Eric and I were tired.
Having the gang around is tiring. There’s wrestling and teasing and always
seems to be some kind of Nerf ammo flying through the air. It makes me wonder
how I survived their teenage years. Maybe I was younger then.
There was no repeat of last year’s mustachioed gunslinger
fights in the living room, but we did make Matt play Santa, which he hates.
“Why do you always make me do this?” he whined as he sorted
out gifts from under the tree.
“Because you’re the youngest,” Jess answered before I could.
This is funny, because she is a tiny person, reminds me of a pretty little Goth
elf and is not even two years older than Matt. He’s about a foot taller then
she is, so I love it when she sasses him.
We have had some interesting adventures on Christmas. There
was the year we made Matt dance shirtless to the “Peanut Butter Jelly” song to
earn a Monopoly property, the year the kids got a Play TV Baseball game which
prompted a Wettschreck World Series, years of Lego building, a very memorable
foosball day and afore-mentioned Nerf ammo. They still manage to get underfoot
as I’m cooking, yet disappear when clean-up times rolls around until I bellow.
Another crazy, chaotic Christmas. I love it when they all
come to visit. And love it when they all go home.
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