Do you remember those days (or maybe you're still living them), when your kids were little and you would wait until you got them in bed, tiptoe to your own room hoping they wouldn't wake up and play under the covers?
That giggling and laughing under the blankets, groping, trying to figure out where everything is. Finally getting into the groove, hands become more sure, the giggling stops to be replaced with breathy sighs and groans. And then maybe, if you are like us, more giggling and laughing and snuggling and playing under the blankets afterwards?
Do you remember that? I kind of miss that.
Because now? I have teenagers. Older teenagers. Like practically adult teenagers. The kind that you can't tell to go to bed because it's summer and they don't have school. Or the kind that are basically adults still living in my household. The kind that know what's going on if they hear anything.
One is almost always here. Seriously, the boy doesn't leave much. And if one is sleeping? The other one is up.
So we sneak whenever we can. And because we are so different, we have very different schedules and rarely go to bed together at the same time. He's a morning person and I'm a night owl. So that sneaking usually ends up taking place sometime in the morning while those teenagers are still sleeping. Or sometime in the afternoon. But it's always light out. Not that I mind the light but I miss playing under the blankets in the dark.
I know, I know, probably more than you needed to know but I'm in a sharing mood tonight.