Saturday, 22 March 2008

The art of noise.

    Say it to my face
    Look me in the eyes
    And say what you have to say
    You know we can't erase these words before goodbye
    And turn the final page

    Here comes alone again

I'm a little grumpy tonight, but only just a little. It could be the poor sleep. It could be the craziness of this city on a long weekend and wearing myself to pieces trying to navigate through the chaos. At several points in the day, Schuyler would reverse direction, walking back to me to grab my hand to thread us through the shoppers and market-goers, all of whom were rushing (like us) to fit in their errands on the one open between two closed days this weekend.

We capped off the afternoon with a late dinner at an Italian restaurant. They began to suggest another movie, some games, maybe a late evening walk or something. I told them they had earned their time off for good behavior. Before trusting me to be alone they did do me the favor of walking the dog in the gathering darkness and Butterfield and I are now locked in tight for the night, alone together, though he is poor company. He's splayed out on the floor underneath the coffee table now, snoring and having his puppy dreams.

I talked to him for a bit but he didn't seem to care.

Daniel said before they left that I should sleep in my bed tonight and that they could be here in moments if I needed them. I reminded him that he says that every time he leaves and that in an emergency John is only two streets away but yes, I would call Daniel too. He said he'll be happier when Ben is back and I nodded because there was nothing I needed to say. I wish he was here right now because nights alone are things I believe I despise.

But I will be fine. I bought a new book to read. I filled the Easter baskets for the children and hid eggs all over the house in anticipation of tomorrow. I washed the dishes and caught up on the laundry since when the kids return home tomorrow everything in their suitcases will need to be washed again, and I hope to be in bed in an hour or so. I only have to stay up long enough to let Butters out one more time before bed and long enough to snag my treasured goodnight phone call from Ben.

I'll be happier when everyone is home. I'm one hundred percent sure the kids grew while they were away. They always seem so much bigger when they come home. Ten days is such a long time.

That's how many days are left until Ben comes home for good. But I'm not counting, I swear.