The front door is left unlocked and nightly, I hear it squeak open in the wee hours. This is followed by a familiar tread up the stairs and the light goes on briefly in the bathroom followed by the slam of two bedroom doors. I roll over and fall deeply asleep. Ben is home for the holidays and I am enjoying the almost forgotten rhythm of life with him at home. My world for a few days will be a busier but happier place.
If I am fortunate, the urge to cook will overpower Ben and he will treat us to a gastronomic delight. Nothing better than a warm kitchen, redolent with the fragrance of some savory dish accompanied Ben's comments on my cooking abilities (or sad lack there of) and my uneducated palate. However, this is why one has children, to open up one's world to unforeseen possibilities, places and previously undetected areas requiring polish.
Also, if I am fortunate, the opportunity will arise to have conversation with Ben. One of the things that warms my heart and feeds my spirit is such dialogue. I can count on a different perspective that will give me much to mull over. A man of many insights is this son of my heart. A man of the question. And perhaps along the way, he just may push a button or two.
So, while I may find a coat or two on the floor, a topsy turvey bedroom, crumbs on the counter, leftovers vanishing, and perhaps receive a noogie or two while preparing dinner, I know I can count on hearing "Mom" being bellowed down the stairs for a few more days and I am content.
So nice to have you home Ben, you bring laughter with you.
.....and for what it's worth.....it's your hair....dread it if you want.
