the kids are moving out

Yesterday, I was laying or lying around on the couch like a lump, which you really can't judge, because I was up while it was practically dark, sweating and buffeting my body and such. Now, that's a Scripture, that buffeting the body thing, but it makes me think of Ryans. I tell you what, I bet many an ab workout has been short-circuited at Ryans. In fact, I wish I was there now. Lucky for my abs, I'm broke, and Ryans is a rich man's game.

Anyways. There I was on the couch, with various small humans draped on and around me, because I am Child Mecca. I said something about not wanting them to grow up, and that they had to stay little forever and never leave me, the kind of stuff they'll bring up in therapy when they are 30 years old and still wearing pigtails and living in the basement in a Mario sleeping bag.

"I am going to get big," Brynn says. "I'm going to be a grown up lady and I'm going to marry Josh."

"I'm never getting married," Toby says, sealing his place as my favorite for the moment. "I hate wedding music, so I'm not getting married."

Brynn looks concerned. "Josh hates wedding music, too! Oh, who will I marry?"

I tell her maybe she'll meet someone when she's a grownup lady, but won't she miss me? Toby looks alarmed. "I'm just going to build a house in the backyard," he assures me. "So you won't miss me. You can come and visit anytime. Or I will come to you. I'll just come to your house."

Brynn makes a plan. "I'll live over there, by the garage," she says. "With my family. Or maybe I'll live in the woods, in a house made of sticks."

"I'll just live in the backyard, and I won't have a job," Toby decides. "I'll eat over here. Maybe Tristan will live with me. And Richy, if he can talk." He looks at me, pleased to have found the best solution.

So. It sounds like they'll all be sticking pretty close. That's a relief. Kind of.