Photos from a birthday party last week.
I’m writing this on my laptop, from the living room of a hotel suite. The kids are on air mattresses on the floor. Abbott is sleeping. If I go sit on my bed in the next room, and read my book, there will be curtain call after curtain call from Cal, who is not asleep, telling me he’s scared, or wondering what that noise is. By sitting in a chair next to him, aside from his occasional commentary about being thirsty or cold or hot, or listening to him wonder aloud about why wireless works for email but not text messaging, I can relax.
Back to the birthday party. While the kids were engaged with a magician in the living room, the dad of one of Cal’s classmates and I cleaned up the residual cake in the dining room and loaded the dishwasher, while we chatted about sports and concussions (he, like Alexi, is a physician and is a team trainer), the holidays, and life in general. It was nice not being a captive audience in the next room, in the event the magician wasn’t amazing (he was very good, but you never know), or went on too long (he didn’t). I feel the same worry when the preaching starts up in church, and during all school meetings when there’s a guest speaker.