I'm washing all my window panes. It started in Braxton and Adelle's room. We cleaned their room today, earlier, and I noticed the window panes were bad. I like to have all the windows in the house open this time of year. Air everything out, ya know. It's a good thing because who knows what has been living behind those blinds since probably last summer. I made a mental note that the panes needed to be cleaned asap. If they were yucky in their room, they were most likely yucky in the other rooms too.
The kids and Jeff are temporarily gone. Jeff got home and took the kids across the street to the school to play and get some wiggles out. I did the same thing that most of you reading this would do; took the opportunity to do some hard core cleaning without any little helpers.
I am in my front room, facing the street, cleaning the windows. There is no use cleaning the panes without doing the whole window as well. I see a friend drive by but she doesn't see me. I think about her for a moment. I see cars travel past, most faster than I would prefer, some of them talking on cell phones. They are probably hurrying home to their families because it is dinner time so I forgive them for driving negligently down our street. I see kids on bikes and hear the neighbors dog barking. The windows are open and I find myself stopping and gazing out. Not because I see anything but because of what I hear.
A familiar voice hollers "stop," in his usual calm fashion. Footsteps stop but only for a moment to look both ways and then continue. Then I can see them. A small boy with new school shoes running as fast as he can. The sidewalk can barely keep up. A little girl is behind him and I hear her holler, "wait for me, I'm coming too." She is wearing leggings and sandals but I know it is only because her mom recommended she take off the dress to go to the park because the dress was really long and might be hard to climb in. The small boy fights his desire to keep running ahead and stops to wait for the little girl. When she is only a few feet behind him he continues his chase. Behind them still is a man. He is smiling. He is always smiling. On his shoulders rides a little tot, sun bleached hair that is surfer shaggy and makes him look like he is a teenager in a babies body. I know he walked most of the way just to prove that if the other kids could do it so could he, because that is how he is lately. Little legs are probably ready to fall off.
The small boy in front sees me and points, "mom! It's mom, it's mom" as if I've been gone for days. I wave and realize I forgot I was staring out my window. The little girl can see me now too. She is waving happily. The tot on the shoulders of the man is looking in the direction they are yelling mom. I don't know if he can see me yet but I can hear him saying his favorite word over and over, "hi, hi, hi" and I know he is talking to me.
They ring the doorbell, out of fun, and stomp in all at the same time, some tripping over others. They are dusty dirty, like you are when you leave a graveled playground, but they are home.
The man kisses me. I still can't believe he is mine, forever. The tot is hungry. The small boys new shoes no longer look new. The little girl wants to put her dress back on. My world came back.