Sleep Over

The dog woke me up this morning - again. This is not new. She is regularly the first willfully awake creature in our house as the rest of us struggle to remain at rest. But this morning was different. Once we coaxed her back to her bed next to our own, quiet returned to our little house. This was unique, since our usual Saturday routine allows for just a few moments of peace before we hear the padding sounds of our son's little feet. In order to maximize the fun and adventure that can be had on any given weekend, a ten-year-old boy must rise before dawn to begin negotiating the possible number of hours playing video games.
This morning there was no such negotiation because our son was on his way to Legoland in San Diego. He had spent the night at a friend's house and they were all piling into a car then piling into a plane before piling into Legoland for a day of interactive amusement park-type fun. Aside from the obvious enticement of visiting the headwaters of all the multi-colored plastic bricks in North America, this was a monumental occasion because our son spent the night away from home. By himself. To be fair, he had an assist from his mother, but she came home before morning, and the record will show that a successful sleepover attempt was made.
Yes, the odds were stacked in his favor, but I understood the depths of his fear. At the ripe old age of forty-five, husband, father, and teacher of fourth grade, I still get anxious when the sun starts to go down and I am far away from my own bed. I have learned to embrace the feeling of being someplace different as a sort of thrill ride, immersing myself in the details of my surroundings. I have taught my son the joys of searching out the ice machine in every hotel we stay in. The adventure overwhelms the anxiety.
This morning my son continued his own adventure, and I listened to the quiet.