With the imminent departure of The Teenager looming on the (far) horizon, I'm finding it really difficult not to phrase every event in our lives in terms of "this is the last time we will do this as a family".
Take, for instance, our annual trip to the pumpkin patch earlier today; do you think for one minute that I was able to simply enjoy the day without thinking about how we have been doing this since The Teenager was barely able to toddle through the pumpkins, and, about how we would be doing it without her next year? Let me save you the suspense: I was not.
Do you think I was able to watch The Teenager and her brother toasting marshmallows over the open fire without an overwhelming sense of nostalgia for the first time that she held a toasting stick in her pudgy little hand? Yeah, no.
I did, however, manage to keep my thoughts mostly to myself and, because I did that; we were able to enjoy the day.
I'll make no promises for keeping my thoughts to myself the next last time we do something as a family, living together under one roof, however.
I doubt you blame me.
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