So my boys went hunting this weekend… ALL of them. I opted to stay home and enjoy the silence. The first day was great. I spent a quiet afternoon by the pool with Mom and Dad, then dinner and a movie with Laura. I came home, checked my email and went to bed with both dogs. My plan for the next day included getting up reasonably late and enjoying another day in the pool, then watching a little football. There would be no one yelling every 30 seconds, “Watch this Momma!” I wouldn’t get begged to rate each and every dive from 0 to 10. I wouldn’t have to count how many seconds they stayed underwater or how many flips they just did at one pop. I wouldn’t get asked to fix anyone lunch, and I wouldn’t have to pick up all the crap they left laying around while getting ready to swim or getting back into their clothes when they were done. It would be glorious. I could just lay by the pool and read a book. I made it out there around 11 and assumed my position in my chair. Fifteen minutes in I realized that there was no one asking me to watch them. I hadn’t gotten squirted with a water gun, or asked to referee a race. I wasn’t required to fish every bee and spider out of the pool, and no one asked me to sunscreen their back or get them a drink. But glorious, it was not. I was bored. Apparently I don’t like laying by the pool reading a book by myself. Sitting there sucks, and I’d rather rate dives, and wear silly goggles. This house, this pool, this day just isn’t the same without them in it. I spent the rest of my afternoon watching football and waiting for my boys to get home.