The parentals are here for Thanksgiving, and I know that many people find visitors—and in particular, family—stressful, what with the extra bodies and noise and dishes and foibles, but I am generally delighted to have other warm bodies in the house. Especially ones who are happy to entertain my children and buy me dinner.
(Sometimes it doesn’t take much to make me happy.)
These sorts of visits are always All About The Eating, and the fact that the Most Eatingest Holiday falls this week is just a bonus.
The new twist, this visit, is that of course last time they were here, we didn’t have the dog. So where the house is normally buzzing with excitement because GRANDMA AND GRANDPA!, this time we also have a small worried animal underfoot.
I was prepared for Licorice to freak out. She does that. Licorice is wary of new people and also seems perpetually convinced that we might be giving her away. So I figured she would bark and fuss and generally send the message that OH NOES, PEEPULZ, SKARRY!
I forgot, of course, that my parents travel with all the comforts of home… including a smattering of dog hair from their own beloved mutt. Licorice sniffed them thoroughly and decided that maybe they were okay with her. As long as she could turn tail and leap into my lap every few minutes.
Without a spectacular performance of anxiety from the dog, it was left to the children to have the freak-outs, and they didn’t let us down. I mean, they’re excited to have their grandparents here, so naturally they express that joy by talking a hundred miles an hour, getting huffy and explosive whenever a sibling—doing the exact same thing—somehow managed to metaphorically step on their toes, and screaming and slamming doors this morning while getting ready for school because why on earth would you allow guests to sleep past 6:00 a.m.?
I’m still trying to figure out why my parents keep coming back. It sure isn’t for the luxe accommodations.
This morning the children were scrambling to get ready and my folks volunteered to walk Monkey to school, so I suggested they take Licorice so that she could get some exercise. When they returned, Licorice was wet, empty, and VERY excited to see me. (I suspect she figured she was being sent off to her new home.) Finally we dispatched the second child to school and then Licorice commenced running back and forth amongst all the adults, trying to figure out whose turn it was to scratch her ears.
Funny, but with the kids gone it’s MUCH QUIETER. Maybe we’ll all leave and go somewhere—perhaps for cocktails—this afternoon before the kids get home.
Oh, I’m kidding. I’d settle for tacos. (Licorice likes tacos, too.)