The Boys

I was on a bus going in to Boston with a bunch of students and parents.  It must have been 1999, 2000?  I don’t even remember where we were going.  I was sitting next to a FSPA mom who said that she taught with someone who apparently was moving in to the house right next door to us.  “She’s a teacher and he loves sports.  You guys will LOVE them.” 

I didn’t question what I was being told but I couldn’t imagine “taking anyone new on.”  This was well before H and M but even then, there weren’t enough hours in the day to do what we wanted to do.  I was confident that they’d be quite nice but wasn’t banking on anything much more than a friendly “hey, hope you’re well” over the fence every now and again. 

Well, I couldn’t have been more wrong.  Love these kids. To bits.  (Their parents aren't half bad either.)  :)

Like most of us, I don't like to admit when I'm wrong. Well, I. Was. Wrong.  I can't imagine life without them. 

Instead of living on the other side of the fence, they now live three minutes away (tops). And even that's too far.  Everything is just so easy when we are with them.  Well, except for the fact that H and M don't quite understand why they can no longer run around without shirts on as they did when they were toddlers, but that's okay. They'll figure it out soon enough.

There's no thinking involved.  We just can "be".  And I love it.  Now, if only I can convince their boys to marry our girls (I know there will be one boy left over but we can figure something out), I'll be a happy Mumma...