My dad and brother Jim have gone back to Missouri. They’re great guests and we miss them, but that doesn’t mean the numbers are any more balanced in this household.
In fact, because Hugh is having a sleepover, the male to female ratio was 8:1 last night and this morning. Here’s what our entry hall looked like in the aftermath of setting off fireworks, always a highlight of visiting our house. My pumps are surrounded! Notice how nobody unties their shoes, they all step onto the heel of first one, then the other, to remove. Which may save time but ends up ruining the shoes really quickly, which does not save money. Another subject for another time.
They’re still asleep.
As much as I love and appreciate guy-dom, I’ve had it up to here with deep voices, giant sneakers, and obsessive football talk. (The toilet seat locked into permanent upright position does not faze me – I see no reason why the minority should rule. I just deal).
Tomorrow at the crack of dawn, the five of us will fly west to Colorado. Am I excited about the epic snow? Yes. The incredible skiing? Definitely. The gorgeous scenery? Of course.
But mostly, I’m excited to see my sister in law Wendy, and my nieces Logan and McKenna. My brother Tom and nephew Griffin are wonderful too, but by virtue of their XY chromosomes, they are not what I need right now. What I need is a little virtual hormone replacement therapy. Someone who can talk about Michelle Obama’s clothing style with me. Someone who doesn’t think that Vera Neumann is related to Alfred E. Newman. Someone who will go to thrift shops and ooh and ahh over the vintage linens and old books with me. Someone who cares about McCoy Bowls, not Rose Bowls.
I shall report back on Wednesday and Friday, snowburned, rested, refreshed, and re-estrogened.
