On Homecoming

When I walked into my sweetly smelling house (don't you love going away so that upon your return your can remember the way your home smells?) last night at 2:30 in the morning, my sister and I anticipated slipping quietly to our beds until the morning. But the dog, who gets excited at thunderstorms (and it was thundering), was so happy to see us that she began to pee on the floor. Somehow my mom intuited that this was happening and ran upstairs, half awake, to greet us and take care of the dog. A couple of minutes later, Ilana stumbles out. When I moved to hug her, I suddenly realized that, unlike my last visit home about a month ago, Ilana is taller than me--soundly taller than me! I am now the shortest member of our family, which I resent. Last, but not least, my dad comes up for a few minutes to greet us in his flannel pajamas. I don't ever think I've seen my father in the middle of the night before. All that to say, they made homecoming quite an event, even at unholy hours.