Nothing is simple. Or straightforward. Or lonely. When it comes to my family. Nothing. I can ask a sister to watch the boys on a Saturday night while Matt and I go to a shower, or birthday party, or just to a relaxing dinner, only to come home to my mom asleep on the couch with one, or two children passed out with her. Or my brother over, watching a movie and drinking a soda. Hell, I have even come home to find that "my mom" watching the boys turned into a BBQ on the deck with every one of my siblings and nephew, using our charcoal, our grill, and numerous other items!
No less than a block away, who do we see at the corner, but Xander. As soon as Brock recognizes his cousin, he dashes off to greet him. Curtis suddenly comes alive and hops out of the stroller, also ditching his pacifier, to call Xander's name, which is something more like "Neener", moving his little feet as quickly as possibly, creating the appearance that he is running, but in actuality is not moving any faster than my or Leah's stroll. He is so cute. We get to the front door, my sister greets us, the dog gets out the front door, and eventually my mother makes her way to the yard. But just the 4 of us girls, with the 4 boys, and the dog isn't enough. My mother invites the passing pedestrian, whom I doubt she has EVER seen before, to let her dog play with Marley. So, we now have three boys playing tag and two large dogs rumbling. And one awkward feeling stranger, who was just too nice to say no to the crazy lady insisting the dogs play.
Anyway, we get rid of the stranger, we finish looking at proofs of Leah's wedding invite on my phone, and we start to get the boys back in walk mode, and now, we are plus one. As Xander and Brock are clearly not going to separate. We make it on our pleasant stroll, but have to leave Brock and Curtis at my mother's while Leah, George and I make our way back to her place so I can drive back with the van. Leah calls Neal back, as he has called, because he is unsure how to get the chicken out of the oven. Long story, short, or shortened at this point, the walk is over, I get the boys home, put them to bed, and reflect on my evening as nothing but a positive experience.