There is nothing like my own bed.
All together, we have six munchkins that run like wild wildebeests when we visit eachother. Our survival tactic is turn our heads and ignore 90% of what is going on.
Intervene only when danger or destruction is evident.
The youngest munchkins kept themselves entertained all weekend.
They got their band back together.
They started their band last Memorial Day:
Three munchkins marched through the house every five minutes playing harmonicas and hammering drums.
This time around Moopa would bring up the rear with two bells.
Noise was abundant yet I can't remember hearing any. Aren't Mommy ears miraculous?
The older two munchkins are getting more complicated. Why must this happen? Why can't Thomas trains still be enough?
My Sports Fanatic and his friend T, who are nine, had the nerve to grow out of Thomas. Unbelievable.
We managed to sneak them out for some "big kid" bowling. The wildebeests never even knew they left. The bowling licked many "I'm booooored..." wounds.
The Hubbies spent their evenings at "The Moose" (don't ask). They always return home from their "man time" in rare form with an outlandish story to share.
This time they claimed they met "the Hulk".
The Mommies spent their evenings watching chick flicks in our jammies.
When I watch chick flicks in my jammies the world is right again.
After a full weekend, we left Sunday morning and arrived home after a 3 hour drive.
And home feels tremendous. Easy. Comforting.
Don't get me wrong, there is no place I'd rather visit for the weekend than our friends' house. We look forward to our weekends. They are much like mini holidays with a pack of wild wildebeests on the loose.
Every visit solidifies an already iron clad dedication to our friendship. And every visit also confirms we need reservations in the nuthouse.
But home never disappoints, regardless of how "unfancy" it is or how much I wish to renovate.
Home is home. It's where the heart is.
Forgive the cheesiness. I'm tired and mushy and cheesy..
Have a fabulous Monday.