The End Of Our Thanksgiving by Debra H. Goldstein
Thanksgiving week at the Goldstein’s house is coming to an end. The last child will be flying out tonight. The first one arrived last Tuesday. In between, a total of twelve people and one grand-dog descended on us. As parents, we will miss them and look forward to our next get-together. As curmudgeons, we are delighted to have our house back to ourselves.
Just think, we will be able to sleep until whatever time our body clock wakes us rather than setting an alarm for a dawn airport run or having a four-year-old jumping on our bed to see “are you awake?” while a 55-lb puppy bounds into our room, barely putting on the brakes before crashing into my nightstand to let me know she is awake. We won’t load carloads of people and food to take to our joint first cousin family Thanksgiving nor drag chairs from the formal dining room to squeeze around the kitchen table when we breakout the leftovers a few hours after getting home.
Uneaten food remnants are thrown out, beds changed, dog hair vacuumed up (not to mention paint dried from where the grand-dog scratched the laundry room trim to the point my son-in-law spent hours replacing, sanding, and painting while repairing the damage). Basketballs, footballs, dolls, and books are put away.
The house is quiet and peaceful, but not quite as perfect as the past few days.
HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO YOU AND YOURS