Monday, May 18, 2009

Girlz Rule...

Longing
.
The street sign, faded with time,
Is the first to greet me,
My childhood bus stop,

The entrance to my refuge.
I drive slowly,

Pointing out the homes of each long lost neighbor
Who, like I, have since moved on.
Then rounding the cul-de-sac I see it.
Its mature trees, long driveway,
And stained glass door beckon me
To come in and find you,
Sitting,
Waiting for me to come home.
Home from school, home from a date,
Home from this life
That I’ve lived far too long without you.
My mind knows,
It knows,
That this can never be.
But my heart promises to come back,
The next time I’m in town,

To this place,
The only place,
Where I can feel it beat
Like it did when you were here.

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Growing up on a long, dark cul-de-sac road next to the city canal brought with it some interesting adventures. Though it could most often be considered a childhood wonderland, the peeping toms, homeless bums, and passing strangers that occasionally graced our neighborhood made it feel down right scary sometimes.
.
The peeping toms were especially frightening for my sister and me, leading us to always dress in our closet or the bathroom, and I believe that they are primarily responsible for my fear of being alone at night. Because of this I don’t get much sleep when Rick has to be gone for one reason or another. Which
was the case last weekend.
.
On Friday Rick and the boys headed out for a fun-filled father and sons campout, leaving all of us fair maidens home alone.



I had to snap a quick picture just before they drove away because I knew they wouldn't take any while they were gone. After taking this first picture I asked Landon if he could look a little more enthusiastic,
and here's what I got:

There, now that's better.
Waylon didn't have to fake it, he was sooo excited.
.
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Now don’t get me wrong, the girls and I love father and sons campouts because it means playtime for us, it’s just the sleeping part that gets me.
.
When the boys are gone, we girls buy a bunch of junk food, chick flicks, and take-out then have ourselves a regular party. After dinner we spread our treats out onto the kitchen counter then load up cafeteria type trays with all that our hearts desire.



It’s a pig-a-palooza for all as we munch and watch "for girls only" movies late into the night. We have the best time and look forward to it every year.
.
Of course the girls always fall asleep long before I do, leaving me alone to try to ignore all of the things that go bump in the night, until I finally crash around three or four in the morning from sheer exhaustion.
.
I know I’m silly, but no peeping tom, homeless bum, or passing stranger is gonna catch me off guard I’ll tell you that much right now.
If one happens along I’ll be ready.

That’s right, I WILL BE READY!
Ready to do what?
Hmmm, I don’t rightly know.



6 comments:

Jeanette said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
MaryRC said...

my boys had a father sons campout this weekend too. how funny..
great poem about your childhood house. you forgot the scorpions tho.

holly shaw said...

The header is awesome. Your getting creative on this here blog I really enjoy reading your post. Glad you made it through fathers and sons in the small town

Shellie said...

Every man in all Mormondom seemed to be called on a campout this weekend. Next time, take a sleeping pill, the bums and all will move on and you'll be fine.

4boyzmdmom said...

Picture being home all alone with no one to share the chick flicks--that's what happens to me when my boys go camping! I have to invite friends over or invite myself over to spend the night with someone else.

I hate being alone at night, too. And I didn't even grow up on a long, dark cul-de-sac next to the city canal...what's my excuse?

Jenny-Jenny said...

fun post, fun blog... I'll be back. Found you from MaryRC.