I fell asleep last night earlier than planned, passing my half-finished Old Fashioned to MizBubs as I lurched up from the couch and headed for bed. Long week.
This morning I was awakened by the sound of the girls talking, loudly, and water running in the upstairs bathroom. In my fog I thought it was around 4 or 5 am and that the girls had stayed up late watching movies. Before I barked out at them I managed to focus on the clock and saw that it was 7:50 am.
They were up early, getting ready to go to the Bristol Renaissance Faire together. Once I realized that the noise was actually my two daughters, who get along famously with each other, up early and talking while they showered and got ready for their day, I couldn't bark. Instead, I had to get up and make coffee for them.
A little while later they were off down the front walk, ready to bear witness to lord only knows what kind of freakery up in Wisconsin. It was all I could do not to give them a spare handgun for the trip.
And so, if we're lucky, this is how it goes: your beautiful and competent children walking away from you, and you standing there, looking forward like crazy to their return.