See You Next Year!

So we have said good-bye to the relatives. Some people call them outlaws. Fortunately my relations and I are not on those terms. We had a pleasant visit. Our lifestyle is rather mundane; and kids always add an element of excitement. There was the two-year old who could very well had been Bernie Mac's niece. You remember the one from his King of Comedy performance; the two-year old who looked at him like he was small. Well this was one of those. She would snatch away and roll her eyes at me like she had a death wish. During one of our many encounters, I told her, "You better call on Jesus, because I am getting ready to get you." You must understand. She is highly intelligent. She understands and comprehends with amazing clarity; and depth that is well beyond normal realm  of a two-year old. Well, if someone tells you, you better call on Jesus, you are going to call on Jesus. And this little two-year old in all of her defiance says, "Jesus." At that point all I could do was give her a big hug and she hugs me back. What the world needs is more love. By the way she turned two, the day after Thanksgiving.

Then there is her four-year old brother. He has held a fascination for cars since he was able to know what a car is. After he comes downstairs reeking of my perfume, my husband with his own propensity for locks on doors, ran upstairs and commenced to locking all the doors. So he locks the bedroom the Mom is sleeping in and places the key over the doorframe. The next morning we are awaken by a loud noise in the hall. The four-year old, who unbeknownst to us, had heard the conversation. He finds our stepladder, drags it up the stairs--a flight and a half--and was in the process of getting the key from over the door. He said he wanted to unlock the door. What other reason for a key?

Did I say we truly enjoyed their visit? Not wanting them to over sleep and run the risk of leaving later than their scheduled ETD, we staged a vigil on their behalf. God forbid they should over sleep. We, therefore, sacrificed our sleep and stayed up all night. When the appointed time arrived, my slow moving husband jumps up out of the recliner where he had perched for night, and ran upstairs to wake our guests. Mind you he had packed much of their things, the night before and set them out on the back porch. 

So when 4 a.m. Sunday arrived (probably bout the time Jesus rose that long ago Sunday morning), we all gathered in the kitchen, at the back door. We blessed them, bade them journey mercies, and adios. As the kids were leaving, they would ask about a certain toy and try to come back into the house to look for it. No. That was not okay! Everything was packed and there was no coming back in. 

Good-bye! 

See you next year!  

Merry Christmas!

Love you!