I tromped down our six stairs today to see this when I scuffed snow off my shoes:
I’ve always liked shoes. Really. I like socks too so I guess I’m not a big barefoot person. Anywho, what I like best about shoes here is it means there are people in our house.
And that, I like a lot.
Wednesday, in my life, means French class.
But Wednesday, for others, means something else: Pokemon night.
Before I tucked myself in my room to begin the nightly charade of study, I picked up a mug and the chai latte mix. “Is that Chai tea?” a friendly voice asks from the table. Four pairs of ears perk up.
We add some hot chocolate and coffee into the mix.
No, not literally.
I like these boys, friends of Brother. We chat coffee and Band of Brothers while the hot drinks get hot.
I am reminded of the revelation I had living with Carson – I decided I should marry an extravert so I can have people around without doing all the work of entertaining them all the time. This is a good idea, no? I think so.
Carson was good at having people over. I miss him.
Regardless, there are still rumbly voices of guys playing pokemon in the little kitchen, cards slapping on the table and even the strummings of a guitar for a few minutes. I like these sounds, so though I hide around the corner I keep the door open.
I want to have people over more often.
It must be time for a Band of Brothers afternoon or a potluck and a games night. Something. It’s been a quiet house this fall. In all my going outs I must remember to bring people in.
So please, if you ever have an inkling, come and park your shoes at our door.
We need more people around here.