Sunday, March 2, 2008:
We discovered that someone had scribbled on our new cupboard door. Matt and Claire both denied responsibility. I prevailed. “You’re both grounded. One of you is guilty, and the other one is lying!” There was a pause, and then much impertinent laughter. Was there a gap in that thought process? Beds.
Saturday, April 19, 2008:
We set up our new leather couch in our new room. Everyone comes to comment and help and be. The big girls fill us in on their horror film sleepover last night. Drew has been water-ballooning the church dance in Mapleton. She didn’t get arrested, but some kid did rip her windshield wiper off. We bring that lawyer’s bookshelf back up. Sharon moves my hockey card pictures in, and puts them up on that north wall. Cool! Ninety minutes of unforced, uninhibited late night conversation follows. Drew and Sarah (and Spence, who was scared) just stayed and stayed. Study abroad memories, thoughts about Caitlin, parenting triumphs from the past—“one of you is guilty, and the other one is lying!”—the various inconsequentialities of loving family interaction. All we needed down there was a place to sit and settle. Even Sharon, who has proven herself an eternal, inveterate non-talker, sort of joined in. That was bliss, and worth building the whole room for.