This thing stinks. And it’s huge; it takes up a lot of room. It has been underfoot in my office and on the front porch. I’ve purchased loads of groceries and found it taking up the entire cargo area of my Suburban. On too many humid nights, it has stunk up the entire car. I’ve grumbled or yelled a few more expletives about it than I care to admit now.
Because it’s going back to the fire department tonight. And it means a lot more to me than I care to admit. Because while I will not miss its reflective body in my walkway at night, it means my oldest son isn’t going to be here to need it.
Mind you, he’s only taking a leave of absence and it will probably sit on a shelf intact until his return. Because the plans to drive home are just as integral to his plans as his time away. This should not upset me. I’m really excited for the opportunity he has before him. If he decided not to go, I’d kick him on his way.
But I’m really going to miss him and his gadgetry in the meanwhile.
And I really hope Little Bro feels, like Big Bro once voiced, “that the cavalry has just arrived.”