It's unusually quiet around here. The very air is thick with silence, and it feels strange. Normally, afternoons are a wild hodge-podge of boyish horseplay, mother-reminders of chores, questions about available edibles, pencil-finding homeworkers, doors opening with coming-home traffic and closing again with out-goers. It's a veritable Grand Central Station, and although I become harried by the relentless motion, there is nowhere I'd rather be than in the midst of my children's lives.
For now, I wonder at, and revel in the stillness. Trent is quiet in his office. Alec is at his after-school job. Ben is at Latin Club (I think). Cub Scouts claims Chris, David, and Eddy, as den chief, Webelos, and Bear respectively. The Angel and the babies are taking a late nap after our mid-day outing to the bi-monthly Aunts of the Knapp Family Luncheon. So still. Whatever shall I do with myself? For a moment I am a lost empty nester. Then I slip into a deliciously stolen nap. Bliss!
Now the phone rings, then the sliding door moves aside to allow entrance. The hush is broken by the den chief coming home from a busy meeting of making bird posters. The Scrub Sprouts start straggling in, treasuring a bit of obsidian and a homemade catapult. I hear Trent making calls behind the office door. A sleeping baby rolls drowsily off the couch. The timer beeps on the baking bread. I wonder what I can whip up for dinner, and the world resumes its usual pace. I head into the kitchen with a smile on my face, functional again because
I snuck a nap today.