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We left yesterday at three in the afternoon and I have been home for an hour. The kids are blissfully playing at the school with other blissful children and have not even stepped a foot in our home since we arrived back. I have at least another hour to myself.
I suddenly want out of my clothes. I need a pair of shorts. I travel down the hallway passing the bathroom, over into my room.
The closet door is open and there are some clothes outside of it on the floor. One hanger lays beside a red sweater. There is a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle on the floor, too. It is Michelangelo.
The Hypochondriac's Guide To Life. And Death by Gene Weingarten is sprawled across a Jean M. Auel novel. Which are both sprawled across my un-made bed.
I grab some shorts and make a path to the bathroom. There is a hat, blue pajama bottoms, a pillow and part of Monday's paper in the hallway. I only wonder why I had not noticed this when I had first blazed a trail to the bedroom, now while I am writing this.
I sigh when I arrive in the bathroom. I have not been here in awhile.
There are two towels on the floor, one sprawled and dry, one balled up and still...damp. There is a book on the floor by the bathtub. There are nail clippers, a bottle of tylenol and green hair gel all out on the counter. The soap is in the sink.
I pull a u-turn and head for the living room.
I cannot believe the things I end up seeing!
There are clean clothes and lots of them. They are on the loveseat and the floor. There is a book on my coffee table. One green marker, one black pen and four crayons are beside it. The orange one is broken. The main attraction though is a two- foot replica of a Tyrannosaurus Rex, smack dab in the centre of the table.
There is a pair of red shorts folded on the back of the couch next to an opened Steinbeck novel.
A picture is knocked over on my borrowed oval table.
My computer desk. Two brown cups. Of coffee from stores. Yeah...and a blue coffee mug behind them.
There is also two receipts. One from a drug store. One with 25 cents of Canadian Tire money beside it. Also included was my favorite John Irving novel and my big copy of The Lord Of The Rings.
And a package of Magic Grow Ancient Animals. Just Add Water!!!!
I turn slowly taking it all in.
There is a comforter folded neatly beneath the coffee table. But my couch blankets are askew.
Oh, but there is the four bags our Roadtrip had required, stacked neatly in the corner by the birdcage.
I look at the bird and I want to blame him.
I see the cat and her belly all lolling, stretched on my hardwood floor basking in the sun and I want to blame her.
There is no freaking way I am going into the kitchen. I shake my head.
Did you have a Mensa party while I was gone? I ask The Voice.
Silence. That is all I hear.
I cannot leave you home alone for one night, can I? I say, heading back the way I had came.
Towards the bathroom. I am going to have a bath.
Did you get the shampoo on your little Roadtrip? asks The Voice.
I pause briefly before slamming the bathroom door.
I am going to light candles and a pretty good book got left in here, eh? I let The Voice know.



phoebe said…
nothing like going away and coming back to see home through new eyes. sometimes it's my favorite feature of traveling, sometimes my least favorite. :-) Great descriptions, Q.
AJ said…
Welcome home...both places.

Inanna said…
Queenie, what were you doing in my house???? I missed seeing

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