On my way home last night Teeny called me “Um, mom, can I have some friends over to get in the hot tub?” 

Initial response is to inwardly groan.  Reasons being that Mr. H finished re-tiling the front bathroom yesterday therefore earning himself another coveted “kitchen pass” to go deer hunting this weekend.  His weekend started yesterday.  This translates into my usually 20 minute peaceful drive home would now be turned into an hour and a half drive home because I need to fetch little Princess Magpie from the evil mother-in-laws (herein known as EMIL) house.

I work in the Southerly direction from our abode and EMIL lives in a North Easterly direction from our house and the only way to get there from here is to traverse the wicked highway known as 121/183.  Otherwise knows as the “Yellow Brick Road” because it is about that wide and 2 million people an hour try to drive on it in both directions. 

Instead of sentencing people to prison for the crimes they commit they should just subject them to driving back and forth on this highway for 10 hours a day – we wouldn’t need the death penalty anymore here in Texas but just might have a higher population in our insane asylums.

Then I think – gosh, what the hell?  After all it really isn’t Teeny’s fault that I agreed to let Mr. H abandon me to deal with the travel arrangements of the little blond monster so I agree.  I’m rather glad I did – I really like the house to be full of laughter.  About 30 minutes after I got home 4 boys and 2 girls came crashing through the front door, giggling, pushing, wrestling, shoving, punching and that was just the 2 girls.

None of these kiddos believe me when I tell them my age and as usual several of them wander in and out of the living room to converse with me.  I think I act immature and that is why they don’t think I’m 41 – either that or the hot pink and black leopard print pj’s with “Wild Thing” written on the front in sequins that I was wearing. 

The first girl walks in and somehow the conversation turns to her telling me about how she lost a kidney a couple of years ago and what she has to deal with – I listen.  She is about 16 yrs old – very sweet and very skinny but thinks she is fat.  I had a sudden urge to lift my shirt and show her exactly what fat is but didn’t really want to clean up any projectile puke that might’ve gotten on the couch, carpet or walls.

In wanders girl # II – she slides down her waistband and shows me her scar where she had an emergency appendectomy last year – I listen.  She is 15 and if she had gotten to the hospital an hour later she wouldn’t be here with us today.  I’m wondering if it would be politically correct to lift my shirt, slide my bottoms down a bit and show them the road map of Texas from the stretch marks of 3 pregnancies and the scars from having a my tubes tied then having them reversed 13 yrs later.  Nah – that whole having to clean up puke enters my mind again.  Indecently she thinks she is fat too.

Fat???  Gah, please – I probably couldn’t fit 1 thigh into the waistband of either of their jeans.  Fat ** hester scoffs **

Boy #1 walks in, proudly exhibiting some scar for some stupid testosterone filled prank like jumping on the hood of a moving car and explaining his hospital stay and lengthy recovery needed – I listen.  Good thing he has a hard head and won his battle with the pavement.

Enters boy #2 who starts telling me about his birth – like he could remember that.  Apparently he was over 9 lbs and he started talking about how his head was so large that they had to make a new scale for how wide the cervix had to open to accommodate him.  I giggle and ask him if he is opening up the floor for birthing stories because I had 3 of them to share.

The group collectively groans and says NO! in unison which makes me laugh even harder.

Boy #3 enters the room and starts telling us about some surgery he had where they needed to give him an epidural.  I didn’t realize that they used those bad boys for anything other than giving birth but guess it makes sense.  He is describing the needle in great detail and I feel myself grow faint so I leave the room under the pretense of needing to relieve my bladder.  In the bathroom I wipe the beads of sweat off of my face with a cold washrag.

Come back and boy #4 has joined us and wants to discuss protein shakes, folic acid and vitamin b in detail.  Just out of curiosity I’ve studied herbs and natural medicine and using vitamins and minerals to heal yourself – he knows this and wants to discuss with me what he knows.  Most of what he tells me I already know yet still I listen.  Just in case I learn something and I do.

Teeny comes into the room and says “Mom – stop stealing my friends, come on guys lets get in the hot tub”.

I just grinned and said “Ok, sorry babe”.

These kids go outside and with their roughhousing practically empty a 700 gallon hot tub.  I’m left inside wondering, because of the way they gravitate to me, if their own parents ever just listen?