the tempest

"I miss my daddy." My son calls out to me from the corner of the kitchen while I rinse the silverware and set it drying. "I'm sorry, honey, he's at work. But he'll be home before bedtime... I think."

A heavy cloud passes over the sun. I feel a storm coming. "Quickly boys, we need to hurry. We must make a fort for shelter. Gather all the pillows and blankets you can find!"

I turn the couch around to face the wall and then push it back in place, only now it's backwards, creating a sort of canal of cushion. Hurriedly, I line the wall with gathered pillows and toss a sheet over the top. "Climb in, boys. Lickety-split."

Outside is cold and dark. And oh, so lonely. But in here we have each other. We know that the storm cannot last forever.

We take turns telling stories of adventure and intrigue.

We dream of the sun.

And we save a spot for daddy.

I have a feeling that being married to an accountant is going to be quite difficult sometimes, namely January through mid-April. Now, having waved goodbye to him before the kids awake and welcomed him home just before bedtime, with few exceptions, for three months, I find myself in dire need of him. All to myself. For an extended engagement. But then, the boys need him too, perhaps more than I. This is even harder, in some ways, than when we were apart for two semesters last year, mainly because I am teased by his occasional presence and the boys' constant requests for him.

On the bright side, today marks the beginning of April. Tax season ends the 15th. (Too bad our anniversary is the 14th, haha.)

Already, as I dream of the coming months, I can smell the sunscreen. I can see him laying next to me on a blanket in our back-yard counting the freckles on my shoulders, and kissing my cheek, while our baby learns to crawl in the grass and our older boys launch water balloons at one-another.

No, the storm cannot possibly last forever. And, until it's over, the boys and I can fortify.