Kansas City

Diana and I went down to Missouri last weekend to attend the completely kick ass wedding of our pals Kitty and Joe.  It was our first weekend away from the boys in a very long time and drank up every moment without those two screaming knuckleheads like the Budweiser in a can so graciously supplied by our hosts.

Or did we?

We missed them far more than I thought we would.  I had to allow myself one and one only call to check on them per day.  But unlimited text messages.  But I found Diana and my party conversation could always make it’s way back to Elijah and Luca.

Oh yeah, the Royals are playing the White Sox.  Do who hates baseball?  Elijah.

Yeah, that dude who leaked all the NSA data.  Do you know who can’t spell “NSA?”  Luca.

September 11th?  Eli, Luca, Eli, Luca, Eli, Luca.

When I would ask them how things were going they would respond the same way every time.  “I can’t remember what we did today.  Can I talk to mom?”

Completely understandable.  I would hand the phone over and they would weep openly about how much they missed her and have competitions on who missed her more, often getting into fights over it.

My dad and Connie would then give me the lowdown on how many gallons of water they spent playing water gun fights and what good eaters they are and generally behave like the best grandparents ever.

And then I’d go back to pretending to listen to non Luca and Eli based conversations.