It was a very eventful weekend. The cousins and the kissing cousins came over, with their parents, and their kissing aunties and lolas, and their friends. There was plenty of food, and with this many people, someone was bound to bring dessert and beverages. So the feast was complete!
After the eating, and while the aunties and the kissing aunties and
lolas sat around and picked at leftovers while discussing who was angry
at who now, and why, and theretofore that's ten!, the cousins and
kissing cousins went outside to play. It started out with made-up
backyard games that involved balls and a broom and rake.
Then the Mighty Quinn just had to step into the kiddie pool. What is it about a body of water, small or big, that attracts little ones so? This water was two days old, and fuh-reezing cold! So cold indeed, that lips were turning blue, and teeth were chattering within ten minutes of submersion. My cousin explained: "kids born in the winter months are at home in the cold." Sure enough, the kids who swam in that frigid water were born in December and January – the dead of winter!
If the clouds hadn't rolled in, and the wind picked up, those "arctic" babies would have stayed in water 'til dark. Now inside the warmth of the house, they changed, cuddled up for warmth, ate again, and commenced playing. Again.
Until it was time for the guests to go home. Then it was cry fest, with "Idon'twannagohome" and "whycan'twestaylonger" echoing as children were ushered and carried to their respective vehicles, buckled up, and driven home.
Thank-you text messages from my cousins and kissing cousins lit up my telephone screen, along with information that their little ones were fast asleep before they turned the corner from our house. The Mighty Quinn fell asleep at 8:30 that night. She hadn't been asleep that early since she was an infant!
