"I can hear you," I said to my mother as she tried unsuccessfully to hush herself as the passing cars well...passed us.
Once we got to my uncle's, the invasion of the children commenced. Between all my cousins, there are twelve little and one enormous tree ranging from 16 to in vitro, which, when ready to pop in the fall, will bring the grand total up to 13. My friends in San Francisco remember the kids as the ones who eat dirt - as most children when left to their own devices in a sandbox tend to do. There was even a dog roaming around to make the scene complete.
Growing up, I spent countless holidays in Marshfield and the age difference between the oldest of my cousin mothers and myself seemed vast - when in reality there is just six between us. Her son towers over me now. I am either shrinking already or he just won't stop growing.
With a visit from an old friend and her son in the mix - the afternoon was the complete opposite of how I normally spend a weekend in Palm Springs. There, I am in the pool, with a cocktail and not a child in site, unless you count the immaturity of most of the men around me.
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| Not one of the aforementioned 13. My friend, Kerre's son, Diesel. |
As the child gang performed a strange puppet show (in four acts) for us, we all caught up with what's been going on as the bugs made a beeline for my sweet tasting legs and face. At last count, I have five mosquito bites. I can appreciate the beauty of the massive Evergreen tree in the back yard, but I could do without the pesky creatures who find me insatiably attractive.
I was exhausted just watching all the activity and turned to my cousin, and just matter of factly announced, "I love my life."
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