Well, after being home for exactly one month, Blair drove off today.  The house has this strangeness about it.  Something is missing.  Maybe it's the light coming from her room.  The extra car in the garage.  The sound of her laughter.  The smell of hot cider.  The hiss of aerosol hair products.  The continuous sound of Say Yes to the Dress on the television.  Or maybe it's the........        

"Carson, you forgot to flush the toilet, you sick, little freak!" 
 
"Mom, tell Blair to quit getting her nasty, long hairs all over my sink!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAhhhhhhhh..........if you shoot me in the face with that stupid Nerf gun one more time, I'm going to ram it down your throat!" 

"Shut up, Blair.  When do you go back to college?" 


Oh, the sounds of love being exchanged betwixt all those who have once occupied my uterus.  There is nothing that warms a mother's heart more than hearing the fruits of her loins interacting in loving kindness.  For one solid month, I have not been able to hear myself think over here.  They were either on one extreme or the other.....laughing together so hard that tea would dribble out of their noses or malice with intent to kill.    

We'd kind of gotten used to the calm and tranquility that having only one child at home brings.  I'd forgotten what it was like when they're both here for an extended period of time.  And yes, let me answer some questions that are being asked in your head.....my "children" are 20 and 14.  And yes......they're too old to behave this way.  And yes......it is a reflection of poor parenting.

When Blair got ready to go today, though, they hugged and hugged and hugged some more.  Carson's already commented that he misses her.  There is love deep down in there.  They've just got to dig for it, sometimes.        

You have to admit though.....no one can irritate you more than your brother or sister.  No one. 

My big brother, Zane.....well, he was a barbarian.  He was always cleaning some kind of varmint that he'd killed and terrorizing me with its carcass.  He was either sweaty or muddy or bloody or all of the above.  He ate more than a herd of pregnant goats.  He could make you wish to never step foot in the hall bathroom again.  His pastimes included, but were not limited to, giving Charlie Horses, tickling me until I wished he was dead, pulling my fingers all the way back until I said, "yes, sir", and running toward me with reptiles and arachnids.  He is the reason I eat fast, flinch at sudden movements, and have a high tolerance for bad smells.  Thank you, Zane.          

My little brother, Lee.....well, I probably owe him an apology.  He could be a little annoying, but I made him the butt of all of my jokes and an unsuspecting prop for my deprecating comedy skits when I had friends over.  I suppose I was working out my own sibling frustrations and suppressed desire for revenge.....even if it was misdirected.  Then there was that thing I did when I'd tell him that he was found under a bridge when he was a baby and that our parents adopted him.  If he were to undergo hypnotic therapy now, my name would probably come up a good bit.  He does have a highly developed sense of humor now and I like to think it is the fruit of my sowing.....his coping mechanism, if you will.  You're welcome, Lee. 

Despite our unsavory behavior toward each other, we all grew up to be very nice people.  A little warped.....maybe a bit scarred from the emotional and physical abuse we heaped on each other......but, still......nice people.

Brothers and sisters.  They're the closest replicas of our DNA.  The ones we'll sit across from at the Thanksgiving table until we die.  The birthdays we'll always remember.  Collaborators on Mother's Day gifts.  Only people on earth who share the same growing up experience.  Always good for a round of "Remember When".  Partly responsible for making us who we are.  And always ready to beat up anyone else who treated you as badly as they did......terrorizing you was a privilege reserved only for them.  

We got spanked together.  Bathed together.  Conjured up cover-up stories together.  Rolled our eyes together.  Got photographed together.  Hid evidence together.  And pooled our coins to buy crappy birthday gifts together.
 
No one will ever irritate you like a brother or a sister, but then again........no one will ever love you like one either.   
Happy Monday to y'all! 

And to my brothers......love you, boys.