Thursday, January 22, 2009

My Home is a Hotel

Some time ago my in-laws redecorated their home and I noticed my son and husband carrying my father-in-laws old blue lazy boy chair through the woods (they live next door). As I stood there with my mouth open they carried it in the house and into my son's room. I could tell he was so proud of it. I immediately said: "Oh, no. That's going in our next garage sale." My son looked crushed and after I calmed down and thought about it and I realized it was just a blue chair and it is HIS room. The next day he came home from school, put on his robe, plopped down in his chair and said: "Ahhh...Jacob's hotel." I just smiled and walked away. You may be thinking at this point that a childs home should not be their hotel. Why not? A place to retreat after a long day at school and ball games, a place that is comfortable, a place to just relax. However, I do draw the line somewhere: there is no room service or maid at this hotel.

As he grows up and moves away, I hope he will always want to come home to his "hotel".

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