The Hillhouse

Hoo-kay. I’m tired. Don’t usually set an alarm, but after last night I had to. Might have slept til noon. After all that volume and drama, and another two hours of post-blog entry, late night nonsense from Elihu, wouldn’t you know, he’s up early. On his own. He beat me. Never happens. I shuffle in to the kitchen to get the morning going, and he’s at the window, watching birds.

“I love you, Mimsy” he says, cheerfully. Is this his way of apologizing? “Man, that was quite a night” I say. “What?” he pauses. “Oh, the fight” he says in a softer tone. He gets off the stool and comes over to me. “You’re the best mother in the world”. ??? Does he feel bad? I’m too tired to explore it. Suffice to say, this morning he is changed in some way. I suggest he get dressed, and brush his teeth. But that’s it. Usually I must ask several times. He goes and does these things and returns. I ask if he would like to let the chickens out, something he’s never done by himself as he’s still afraid of the dark garage (it’s out of visual range of the kitchen door, that might contribute). He agrees, then sets out to get his shoes, jacket and glasses – all without any help. Also new. Then he’s off to the garage. ?? He comes back. He is still cheerful. ??

We’re off to the bus. Reminding myself that this is a first for me, and it will not be the beginning of a trend, I drive him to the bus stop still in my pajamas. The bus comes, and he leans in to kiss me. ??? On his own. Then, again a first (as I will not be seen like this standing on the side of the road) he gets out without my accompanying him, leans in through my open window to give me another kiss, then he is off. He gets in the bus, the driver waves, and morning is done. Wow.