Waltz In Exile

Just spent a very tense 5 minutes thinking Seely Booth was actually dead (or, in the words of Goat Daddy: “They killed the Angel FBI guy?”)  Thank goodness he’s actually fine.

What.  Yes I know he’s pretend.  Don’t judge me.

So it’s been a little crazy ’round here, even sans chevres.  Probably just that whole having a job thing (I’m still getting used to it.)  It is pretty nice to get up in the morning and only feed one person (um, me) breakfast, dress one person, pack one person’s lunch, brush one person’s teeth, brush one person’s hair… You get the idea.  Also, not doing goat drop-off means it takes me about 7 minutes to get to work.  (It’s reminiscent of Nannypalooza 2008, actually. Including the eerie quiet when I get home. Except — the house is exactly like I left it. Nice! But weird.)

We’ve talked to the goats every day since they left, except for yesterday (at 10:00, we decided that we weren’t waiting for them to call, and called them instead, only to find out they were already asleep in anticipation of a trip to Amish country today. I did talk to Goat Cousin, though, who made a point of telling me how well-behaved they were, and “an absolute joy” to have around, and “you’re really raising them right,” which was lovely [and unprecedented] to hear.)

Monday night when we talked to them, they had zero interest in talking to us. Probably because they were out at Meadow’s, having frozen custard with Grandma (which I’ve since found out is happening daily.) They assured us they were having fun and hung up on us as soon as they could get away. After Goat Daddy put the phone down, he looked at me and said “They don’t miss us at. all.” I just laughed; I’m totally good with that. I don’t want them homesick and bawling; I want them to have fun! (And let’s face it: if your options were the same old routine with Mom & Dad, who almost never take you out for frozen custard, OR hanging out with Grandma and cousins and going to ballgames and riding a tractor and having frozen custard every day? You’d choose Grandma, too. For a little while, at least.)

So they’re having fun, and being good, and eating too much junk food. And I’m watching too much TV, and sleeping like it’s my job, and just enjoying life in Exile at DEFCON 4 (I’m too paranoid to get all the way down to 5.) So far, so good.

We’ll see how much longer I can enjoy life without mah behbehz here. Today I couldn’t find one of my own hair elastics so I wore one of Goat #2’s; it made me smile. Missing them, but not homesick and bawling (yet. I can totally see myself sobbing over the same “hayr thang” right about Hour #240. [Bet you can't wait to read about that, huh?])