Homebody

Finn took a break from Mom and Dad for a few days.   As the Captain and I headed out to celebrate our 5th wedding anniversary in the mountains of VT,  Finn barely looked over his shoulder at us.    In PA, he had both sets of grandparents, an aunt, a brown dog, lunch with a bunch of great aunts (aka The Auntiques), trips to Home Depot, rides on the War Wagon, visits to the library, swings, a homegrown gourd and pumpkin patch, a convertible with tires, cupcakes (twice … complete with candles and happy birthday despite the fact his birthday is not until February) neighborhood kids with a mini John Deere tractor and above all else roughhousing to keep him more than occupied for four nights and five days.  

On the fifth day,  we tiptoed into my parents house thinking that we might find him napping only to discover him in a fit of giggles roughhousing with Nonno.    He turned to us with a big grin and pointed, “Mama” … “Dada”.    Life is good.   Life is very, very good. 

We packed stuffed the car again with golf clubs, spikes, fly-fishing gear, stroller, pack-n-play, suitcases, buckets of ripe red tomatoes from the grandparents garden, gourds, maple syrup, a wooden train and other requisite toys,  prompting a  “John, see if you can find a spot to stuff in this kid” from me.  Finn, exhausted from his adventures,  snoozed head back mouth open from the on ramp for Rt 81 until the off ramp from Rt 287 in Metuchen.  As we pulled into Franklin Square,  Finn started clapping.   I couldn’t agree more.   It is fun to be away,  but it feels so good to come home.     

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