For the next 9 days, our house will be guy-free. (With the exception of the he-cat, Ben.) My father and brothers left at 6:30 this morning for their annual fishing trip in Canada.
My littlest brother Andrew is going for the first time this year, and he was thrilled to be going. He gets to be one of "the men" for a week, and the fact that there will be no bathing all week is just gravy. (Smelly gravy, if you ask me.) What I don't think he realized is that this week also entails hours and hours in a dirty boat, waiting for the silly little fishies to bite. He also doesn't comprehend the idea of "no running water" or "spider-infested outhouse." The darling little arachnophobe may have a nervous breakdown. Or, he might just find that he enjoys being a filthy little hooligan.
Patrick, who has gone every year since he was 7, is completely aware of what a week at the cabin entails. He spent the last week detailing for me so that, even though I have never gone and never will go, I have a rough idea of what he was facing. I don't think he was looking forward to his week in the wild. He's the sort of civilized person who thinks that fish is best when served as part of sushi, and that his sister is better company than giant mosquitos.
The person who this trip really suits is Jonathan. Not bathing, sitting around doing nothing, and being generally uncivilized fit him better. He's more the typical young ruffian. He likes spitting and urinating out of doors.
They all, however, were looking forward to spending a full week of uninterrupted time with our father, away from his usual concerns.
And, as for my mother and I, we are enjoying our girl time. Today was spent shopping, eating out, and seeing Pirates of the Caribbean once again. I know she misses the boys already, and I'm sure that, by next Sunday, I'll be ready to see them too. Just as soon as they have showered.