Never Enough . . .

I had things all worked out to send the kids and Dean to the in-laws for Thanksgiving and I was going to stay home, locked in the law library to study for finals and get my papers written. It was a perfect plan.

But . . .

. . . as the time for departure approached, my guilt level increased and the thought of spending Thanksgiving in a dark room with my books and computer were perhaps more than I could take.

Add to that the persuasive essay that Hollis wrote with three good points:

1. If I came Grandma would have help making dinner and thereby avid probable death trying to cook dinner for my enormous (I see a double meaning in that) family,

2. If I came the trip would be more fun, and

3. If I came Maren would be forced to sit next to Hollis in the slightly squashed bask seat of the van (yes—to Hollis that was a plus – she LOVES her big sister).

I quickly pointed out to Hollis that her essay was excellent, but in order to be truly persuasive, she would have to provide responses to my counter arguments.

She asked what my counter arguments were, to which I responded:

"If I go to Mesquite for Thanksgiving . . .

I will not be able to study and will then fail my classes . . .

and then I will have to take extra years to finish . . .

thereby prolonging your apparently excruciating pain at being left motherless (or nearly so) for the time I am in school."

She had no response. I thought I was safe.

But Dean started in. Bless his sweet heart, he never asks me to do anything. Except get him toilet paper. And he started sneaking in little, “Do you think you might be able to come?” quickly followed by, “I mean it is totally OK for you to stay. No, you’d better stay and get your papers done. Forget it. Forget that I said anything. You can stay. No problem.”

Let’s be clear, of course I could stay, I am an agent unto myself after all.

Then I thought that there was a slight chance they would all be in a car wreck and die and how would I feel then?

Then—horrors of horrors—I realized that if certain other law students (who shall remain nameless) had told me that they were skipping out on Thanksgiving with their family basically to have a shot at a better GPA, I would be horrified and give them a fair tongue-lashing in my own prideful and self-righteous kind of way about priorities and perspective and what is really important in life.

Needless to say, I found myself sequestered in a bedroom in 70 degree Mesquite typing away.

Interrupted by Hattie, “Mom, you have to come see the beautiful new decorations I made for Grandma.”

Okay.

Interrupted by Maeve, “Mom, color Maeve? Mom, color Maeve?”

Okay.

Interrupted by Maren, “Mom, where’s my Peanuts music?”

Let’s see . . .

Knock . . . knock . . . knock . . .

Interrupted by Hollis, “Um, Mom, sorry to bother you, because I know you are really really super busy with school and stuff and I really want you to get your paper done, so I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m really glad you came. Do you need some water or something?”

OK –is she too much or what? So sweet.

Interrupted by Mandy, “Mom, it is not much of a vacation when you have to work so hard at school. I mean, I find myself having fun and then I forget that you are even here.”

Hmmm . . .

“Then I remember that you are here and then I’m extra sad because you are working and not having fun with me. So it is not much of a vacation. Do you think you could come and eat dinner because I keep imagining Grandma’s table and no one there eating and that is sad, I think. And probably Grandma will feel bad.”

Okay.

And so defamation is set aside until the kids are abed and I can work into the wee hours trying to ensure that I keep the promise that this would be a limited three year engagement. . .

And I’m still glad I came.