After a LONG week of microwaved pizza, falling asleep with the tv on, and only the Red Sox games to keep my mind occupied, Ang and the kids came home from the beach today.
Ciera burst through the door to give me a hug, and Rakes and Trot were close behind. I knew I missed them, but until I picked them up and hugged their necks, I had no idea how much.
They all came back pretty much the same as when they left: except for Trot. He's now acting like that kid from the movie "Parenthood" who bangs his head against stuff all the time. So far, the ottoman, the floor, my leg, and a hope chest have taken a beating while he laughs like some little maniac.
Rakes gave me a blow by blow account of the vist to Medevil Times: "dey rode deir horses doing neigh, neigh, and dey bight wit deir dords Dad, and DEN dey go AAUUGH and ball down", all while swinging two plastic swords over his head like The Rock in "The Scorpion King".
Ciera made out the best: her Aunt took her for a manicure/pedicure, her Mom took her shopping for school clothes, and her Grandparents spoiled her like their was no tomorrow. Personally, I think they were just so happy that one of the three kids didn't act like an escapee from a mental institution they didn't know what to do.
As for Angie, I think she had a good time and I think she's glad to be home: even with all the help, it's hard to do by yourself when you are used to working as the married version of the Rock-n-Roll Express.
Me? While I enjoyed the single life for a week, I'm glad the house is back to being filled with noise, yelling, running, and laughter.
In fact, I wouldn't have it any other way.