Tonight my house is seething with it.
I just put my oldest son to bed, and he was asking questions about whether or not we were staying here, in this house. His room is a bit smaller than our last apartment, and it doesn't have his brother in it and it doesn't have new paint. I think he likes his old house better and maybe even the "different" house too.
When he was asking about whether we were staying here or not, it was a bit difficult explaining that we were going to rent out the other portion of the house to other people and I tried to explain it simply. He decided to tell me where everyone was going to stay, and, sorry Calvin's friends' moms, but you guys are staying in your cars. And Aimee, your friends are staying in the backyard next to my friends.
After saying prayers and thanking Heavenly Father for such a wonderful day today with my son, I walked passed the door that leads to the first floor where "other" people will be living in a few weeks and I heard working. Lots of unrecognizable bangs and bops. It was the sweetest sound two men have ever made. I love hearing people working, but I especially love hearing my husband work with his father.
It is like a long tradition passed down that men do. They work with each other. And to have two men so close in their genetic make-up working in such close proximity. It is just like a hot cup of hot chocolate (so what if I have used that simile before). Like a sweet sweet cup of hot chocolate after being out in the snow all day.
I am so glad I get to hear it a few more weeks.
That first line is brilliant. As is the entire post.
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