Friday, March 11, 2011

Our Revolving House

I love how my kids and spouse have drug animals home over the years, and I say ‘no, it can’t live here’ and then the thing lives here, then they go off and do their own thing and the animal attaches it’s affections on me.

Erin’s cat has taken to talking to me while I ignore it and continue to read and it comes and taps me on the leg with his paw, while I continue to ignore him and he gets up on the coffee table so he can talk to me face to face.
The last one had decided that my lap was the only and best. He is dead now……but I didn’t do it.
This one was sneezing a lot the other day. I wonder if he’s allergic to cats?
Really it wasn’t always  just cats. We have always drug home kids and big people too. Our kitchen table was always the one with ten or so stuffed around it. They all learned the art of perching with their butt cheeks on separate chairs. Some stayed for supper, some stayed longer, but they all got the real me, and returned for the love and laughter. We are told that our table conversations usually take unexpected and unique turns. Their mothers may have wondered where their progeny had acquired skills in the kitchen, but sadly some of their mothers probably never noticed. One gal came to us from the inner city where she had lived and existed her entire life. She was afraid of the relative quiet and cows.
As some of mine have grown and moved out then back in, the house has taken a few turns. One room became the office, the next got tore out along with a closet and a storage room with the plan of a family/multi-purpose/ exercise room. That one came back  before the project was finished, along with his friend. He had to live in the now unfinished space and his friend got an unoccupied bedroom. Number one moved out and the friend stayed, opting for the larger, unfinished space. The spare room became my long dreamed of art studio, and the friend in time moved on. Now number two and her four year old son are coming back, and the youngest, number three, is getting married and will be moving out. We are hurriedly finishing the family room area and once again shifting spaces. The art studio stays, although the four year old thinks that is his room. We will all somehow fit, perhaps with our buns perched on two chairs, and there will be laughter, and love.

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