Oh YES, you CAN go home again

For my birthday, I went to work in St. Louis. This is not unusual. Yes, I sometimes commute 800 miles to go to work. In fact, I spent my LAST birthday in St. Louis. Anyway, I went, which means I spent the nights at my mother and father-in-law’s house. And I’ll just tell you this now so you can ponder — My in-laws are better than your in-laws. You can’t convince me otherwise. Here’s how I know:

My mother-in-law is fun. I actually like hanging out with her. She bends over backwards making sure the house is clean for me (well, maybe not for me) and usually cooks something wonderful when I visit. I visit a lot. The first year we moved I visited 14 times. I practically lived with them. I was like some semi-responsible teenager. They kid me, though, because I always come home later than I say I will, just like a teenager.

So my MIL has been laid up post-foot surgery. My FIL has been running around taking care of her for weeks. Not just her – but the house, too. And HIS in-laws as well. For my birthday, the guy went all out. He cleaned, he shopped and he cooked. He made Paula Deen’s pot roast (which was delicious) and we had pumpkin cheesecake for dessert. HE EVEN DID THE DISHES.  Oh and I’d better mention that he’s fun, too — and FUNNY.

So I felt all spoiled and loved on my birthday, even getting a little verklempt at dinner. First thing in the morning my husband and my daughter called and sang (with the dog barking backup), surprising me and making my day special. My boss took me out to breakfast and I had (honestly) a very rewarding day at work.

On the weekend, I headed to my hometown to attend my mom’s annual craft show, visit my parents and my sister and favorite brother-in-law (um, I only have one, but I DO love the guy). Again — super spoiled and waited upon by my parents. We went out to eat and went shopping — it was lovely. I got to laugh myself silly with my sister. We went to the church I was raised in which is always fun. I see the parents of people I grew up with and occasionally, some of the people I grew up with, now raising their own kids in the church.

On my way back from communion, I saw a girlfriend of mine from high school (Hi Leslie!) — she was a year behind me but married a guy in my class. The two of them were there with their kids and look just like they did 20 years ago. I caught her eye and gave a little wave and was happy to see she recognized me (although my sister says that I look exactly the same as I did in high school so no one would ever have trouble recognizing me). And then! Today! I got an e-mail from her husband saying, was that you?! and, is everything OK? and seriously, I was touched. (And! He reads this blog!) I mean, I guess seeing me there, by myself, with my mom after so long being gone, one would wonder, but dang . . . I guess everyone should go home every once in awhile, just to be reminded there are people who really care for you, even if you don’t see them very often.

Sniff.