Monday, August 1, 2011
Okay, you guys. I'm typing this from my hiding place. We're supposed to leave Monday morning for home, but I'm not ready for the fun to end so I'm doing what little kids do when they don't want to go home. I'm hiding in the back of the closet. I tried to squeeze under the futon we've been sleeping on, but I'm just not as svelte as I was when I visited my cousints' house on Salem Ridge Road. We always had such a good time and it never lasted long enough. Besides Mom always found me under the bed. Maybe the closet is a better bet.
We've had such a great day and I don't know where to begin - Sophie's first trip to the lake (that she remembers)? The short stay in a jail cell? The party of excellence or the walk around the block that made me a little sad? It's been a busy visit. A good visit. A visit that makes me want to seriously step up the job search in Chicago because when you finally figure out what feels like home, you just want to be there already. Maybe it's because I'm getting older and I realize that family and shared history and memories do matter. Maybe it's because it looks like we might leave Chicago without having had pizza.
I better go. If MathMan hears the click clack of typing, he's sure to make me get in the car.
Love to you all.