Every damned time….
But it makes me smile.
It’s part of what makes coming home always feel so good.
Every one of us wants to be there, and every single one of us loves each other like nothing else.
It really is the dream family that Kane always talked about. And it’s something I had to experience for myself to know how magical it really is.
Pulling up right out front, Kane jumps out and opens the van’s sliding doors.
Counting them off like oversized ducklings as each kid files past.
Kane ruffles the boys’ hair or bows low for the ladies as he welcomes them all back home again.
With eight of them, ranging from five to twenty, it’s nothing but chaos from the minute we get home until the minute they finally pretend to go to sleep.
But Kane and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
When the noise finally dies down, and the last calls of ‘G’night!’ and ‘Love you!’ are shouted out, Mom and Dad are finally alone.
For a few hours at least.
I’m propped up on my pillows, trying to keep my eyes open, while Kane’s editing some video he’s shot over the past week.
A gentle rapping at our bedroom door forces my eyes open wide.
It’s Marcus.
Our eldest and most elusive son.
At twenty, he doesn’t have to ask to do a lot of things, but he was raised knowing he could and probably should ask us anything.
That’s what we’re here for. Not just telling him what to do, we’re here to help.
And having him give us the heads up about what he’s doing or where he’s going is normal for him.
Just him being polite.
Touching base.
“Uhhh. Mom, Dad?” he asks, blinking around the edge of the door after I tell him to come on in.
“Hey, Marcus,” Kane smiles, looking over his glasses perched on his nose.
“I was gonna ask earlier, but I forgot…,” he says. His deep voice sounding more like his dad’s every day, not to mention his size.
“What is it, sweetie?” I ask, giving a little stretch and a yawn, patting the edge of our bed so he knows he can have a seat.
“It’s Blake. My friend from college? His mom’s coming to town, renting a summer house. And well, Blake was wondering if I could stay a few days. Like a sleepover, I guess.”
I know it’s immature.
I know it’s not very grown up.
But whenever one of the kids even thinks the word ‘sleepover,’ Kane and I have to work double hard not to laugh.
It’s kinda our inside joke as parents.