We let our eldest go this week. He was itching for adventure.
“New York,” he said.
“Maine,” he said… and “Oh, I want to go sailing.”
“Be gone with you!” I said.
“Go on your adventure and make this family proud! Conquer lands! Vanquish enemies. Oh, and make sure that you call.”
Of course there were grandparents involved in the whole thing. I mean, he is still only 12.
And so our foursome became a threesome, and the house became a whole lot quieter. You wouldn’t think that one person could make such a difference, but it has been surprising to me how much quieter things have been. No more fighting, yelling, bickering, whispering, giggling between two brothers. It is just the one boy now.
A couple of weeks ago, I remember yelling at the dinner table after a hard days work. The constant teasing and bickering got the best of me and I blurted, “Could you two just get along for one meal!! This constant fighting! Good grief!”
But now I miss hearing the normal back and forth that happens between two brothers…a little bit, anyway.
And I hope that soon the grandparents will bring back our wayward son. (That’s what grandparents do, you know. They take them for a while and then bring them back.) I’m not quite ready to let him go for good, just yet.