Y’all. MY PEOPLE came to visit!
Last Thursday night, my Daddy and my brother arrived at my doorstep. I was deliriously excited–pretty much like THIS:
In T-4 minutes, my Daddy was fixing my garbage disposal and Stephen was rearranging my furniture. I paid them in apple pie out of the sheer goodness of my heart, and not at all because I am still trying to hawk off hand-picked apples on unsuspecting visitors.
And sometimes strangers.
It had nothing to do with that.
Having them in Albany was bliss. I felt like a four year old asking my Dad to put her finger painting on the fridge as I showed them my apartment–do you like it? Do you like my candy apple red kitchen aid? What about my COUCH? Do you like that? What about these dessert plates? Do you? Do you?
In case you’re wondering, they loved everything because THEY’RE NOT DUMB.
Now, my apartment is the perfect size for two people, but once you begin scrunching others in, things become a bit tight. Dad and Stephen had brought an air mattress with them, and when bedtime rolled around Dad began to set it up, urging Stephen to take the bed in the guest room while he slept on the floor. And I was reminded all over again of why I think my Dad is the most wonderful Dad on the planet–because he’s the kind of man who without giving it a second thought, naturally gives other people the best thing.
Stephen and I did, of course, insist that he sleep on the bed.
Kellan arrived home the next day, and we did some of this:
That evening, to my unabashed delight, my Dad informed us that he was taking us to ANY SHOW that we wanted to see in NYC the next day! Be still my beating heart. While most American kids grew up watching Cartoon Network, my siblings and I were raised on Rogers and Hammerstein. Bugs Bunny and Scooby doo were all well and good, but paled next to Debbie Reynolds, Fred Astaire and Bing Crosby. We may or may not have enthusiastically performed the entirety of Singing in the Rain in our living room on a regular basis. [Moses supposes his toeses are roses? Anybody?] As far as Stephen and I were concerned, tickets to Broadway were veritable tickets to happiness!
We embraced our inner tourists, and hit NYC the next day.
You can’t really tell, but the Chrysler building is perched in the background of this one. Stephen and I decided that we had to see it, given that our Mother used to channel her inner Miss Hannigan and tell us to make the kitchen “Shine like the top of the Chrysler building!” One look, and grins washed over our faces as understanding dawned. Ooooohhhhh.
Our show of choice! Stephen and I knew every word to every song, but mercifully allowed the cast to do their jobs sans help from the peanut gallery.
We had a ball, and I am already begging them to come back. :)