Home Alone

I’m home alone and the silence sounds pretty damned good. For the first day in months, my sofa is a sofa again, my corner where I sat and look out of the door at the squirrels and birds is now mine and not the huge toy box’s. (is that how you make box possessive?) I can drink hot coffee without worrying about tiny hands knocking it over, burn candles without my beautiful grandson thinking they are meant to be blown out, and run, if I wanted to run, through the house naked, well, I guess that would be a pretty depressing sight, but I could. Oh and did I mention, no cartoons and I can now watch all those movies with subtitles, yes. Here goes. Oh, and I can leave my laptop out and my briefcase open, and if I wanted, smoke pot, if I wanted. Yeah, I’m free, I’m free, thank the gods, I’m free at last.