Christmas in July

I’m rarely speechless.

It takes a lot to make me cry.

But last weekend the stars aligned, and against all odds both of those things happened at the same time in the best way.

My original plan for last weekend was to drive to Austin and visit family, but a wheel bearing on my car was going out and I was advised it would be ill-advised to drive to Austin with that issue. So I didn’t go.

The week before, our daughter and son-in-law told us a package would be arriving for us last weekend and for reasons that would make you either laugh or leave you in awe, my husband and I earnestly suspected it was a reel mower.

Saturday afternoon my son-in-law texted to ask if our package had arrived. I checked the front porch and there was no package so I told him no. Shortly after that, a Subaru holding our daughter, son-in-law and two grandsons pulled into our driveway - the most perfectly executed and beautifully timed surprises in the history of me.

I wasn’t supposed to be in town, but I was. They weren’t supposed to be in town, but they were. I’d say things are looking up and I’m calling it Christmas in July.

This was the first time my husband Bobby had seen the kids since Christmas of 2019 because of Covid, and it was his first time to meet our newest almost four-month-old grandson, Jack. Newsflash: Bobby and I both are Eli and Jack’s huckleberries and proudly. They make us weak and ridiculously optimistic in bleak times and everyone needs as much of that in their lives as they can muster.

And it was just perfection.

This week in between work, being parents to two young kids in general, and all the people the kids needed and wanted to see - we managed to squeeze in some pool time, dinners, so much love and laughter, and more than a few harsh rounds of Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots and Gooey Louie, a game where you pull boogers out of Louie’s plastic head until his brains pop out.

We might not be in Kansas anymore, Dorothy, but it is more exiting than Candy Land.

I’m not counting down the days to Christmas anymore - it’s here.