In my life I have read two separate "folk tale" type books, one native american and one jewish, where the home owner goes to the village wise man and asks what to do about his large family and their small home/crowded living conditions. In both books the village elder tells the home owner to invite animals into his home. The home owner goes back a few times and the village elder instructs him to take in another living creature. This happens again and again until the family is completely overwhelmed. They are surrounded by huge messy animals and can barely function. Then finally the wise elder tells the homeowner to get rid of all his animal guests and even though the homeowner still has a large family and his home is still on the small side he feels like he has all the space in the world.
I am now channelling that good end of the book feeling. Every time I can't post because someone is breathing down my neck, every time I load or unload the dishwasher from my parent's multiple glass meals, every time I pray for temporary hearing loss because the room is shaking from the tv volume, every time I look at my dining room, which used to be where Josh and I would go to spread out his legos and now my dad has turned it into his office, complete with our first ever home fax and copy machine, and every time I feel like I can't go upstairs and (hide) be alone because my two parents are attempting to leave permanent butt imprints in my den couches and I don't want to be rude to them, I just think how quite and easy it is going to be here when they go home. Everyday I find a moment (usually the only time I am alone: when I am on the can) to close my eyes and remember how peaceful it becomes when the company goes home.
A weekend is all I can stand of houseguests. Thankfully, we don't have much room for overnight guests and I'm not giving up our bed.
Posted by: wordgirl | September 09, 2007 at 08:16 PM