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Full House

September 27, 2012

We’ve got a full house.  George has moved in and Claire (the reason for George’s joining us) pops in most days.  Nicole, our renter, joins us for dinner most nights (raising her status to “boarder”), and we see Carl between his gigs at the piano bar and the dinner theater.  The children are so happy with their new housemates.  Last night at dinner Miss P announced, “I like Uncle George better than Mama!”

Tonight, we were all cleaning up the kitchen, and George commented, “With the exception of Miss P, your house could be a sitcom.”  All eyes turned to the open bathroom door where Miss P–pantless, sitting and “waiting” on the potty–met our stare with a long blue marker dangling out of her nose.

Living with a lot of fun people is certainly no hardship for me.  One could say, I have never really relished solitude.  I’ve always felt distinctly “un-spiritual” in this regard. I’m probably one of the only people to ever fail at a solitude retreat (due to my contraband cell phone).

So when a few people have commented that it is nice of me to host our various relatives and Nicole, I just smile serenely and say,”Oh, it’s nothing!”, while inwardly I’m cackling with glee that anyone would agree to live with me in a house full of little clowns.

To ensure that everyone has adequate privacy, we’ve housed Uncle George down in the basement spare room sharing a bathroom with Uncle Carl.  The main floor guestroom and bathroom remain for visiting grandparents.  Nicole is upstairs in our former master bedroom/bathroom.  We bought a bamboo room-dividing curtain at Ikea to separate two bedrooms and a bathroom for Dan the kids and me.  It would probably be more accurate to say we are shooting for privacy, as evidenced by an unfortunate encounter that George had with my nursing noo-noos (as the children call them).

Elisabeth, too, seems to be feeling a lack of privacy.  Tonight as I was tucking her in she told me she would like to hang a curtain around her bottom bunk. And I quote:

So I’ll have somewhere to change my underwear.  See, I’ll just grab my underwear and jump in here to put it on. Then you can stand outside and say, ‘Is your underwear on?’…And I might call out, ‘Yes it is!’ Or I might call, ‘It’ll be on in ten minutes.’ Then you can just wait there.  Unless you have to dry your hair.

6 Comments leave one →
  1. Myra Arnold permalink
    September 27, 2012 10:31 am

    I your Uncle Carl, by any chance, Carl Olson? We know a Carl Olson from Messiah Episcopal Church, who plays at piano bars and acts at dinner theaters. Just wondering

    • September 27, 2012 12:33 pm

      Myra, one and the same!

      • Myra Arnold permalink
        September 27, 2012 1:31 pm

        Its a small world. Say Hi to him from me.

  2. September 27, 2012 2:30 pm

    Never a dull moment, huh? So those Friday mornings to yourself, they will have to wait?

  3. Grammie permalink
    September 28, 2012 1:50 am

    Everybody needs a place to change her underwear!

  4. September 30, 2012 7:23 pm

    I’ve been having that problem of privacy for underwear changing! We have had and still have lots of live-in guests in hour house, and I have to say I’m not nearly so cool about it as you are.
    I thought there was no limit to my extroversion until recently I found it.
    The children, whose bedroom is constantly walked through by everyone, have been similarly concerned about privacy.
    I finally figured out your family, independent of my mother, when I met George at church this morning. Takes us a while.

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