Christmas 2022

The Meyers.  2022.

And then there was one. 

It’s hard to call Christian “Little Christian” anymore because he is taller than I am.  And he is in that phase of teenage-hood where boys speak in a weird mix of grunts and words that I have to look up in the urban dictionary.

He just looked over my shoulder, read that line and said “Dad, that’s cap.”  See, that’s not a word.

But he is sitting here as the last of the Meyer boys, with all wheels turning trying to figure out how to extricate himself from the barrage of newfound attention.

“What did you do today?  Who did you sit with at lunch?  Did you learn anything memorable?  Did you tell Mrs. Smith you were going to be late 4 Tuesdays from now?  What should we do this weekend?  What time is your game?  Why aren’t you wearing a coat?  Why don’t your socks match?”

It’s not super easy for him to answer because we only space the questions with…well…we don’t really space the questions.  We just gaze at him with singular attention.  And he says “can I be excused?”. 

And then there is just us. 

Polly asks “Did you remember to…” and you can guess the answer to that one.

The latest was “did you remember to get the stuff to patch the ceiling?”. 

Let’s back up three weeks.  There is water dripping through the dining room ceiling.  I cut a hole in the ceiling to see what the problem is.  I thought that alone was pretty marvelous.  The hole.  Without having created it.  By stepping through the ceiling from the other side. 

It showed us that the shower drain was leaking!  I can fix this problem.  I just need to visit my friend Hugh Tube.  He knows everything.  Including knowing, apparently, that there was no chance I was going to fix the ceiling.

Maybe one of the boys will help me over the holidays.  When you have four boys you do tend to convince yourself that they will do something.  Rake.  Paint.  Vacuum.  Cook.  Turns out they mostly just eat and poop.  And ask for the Netflix password.  Which every single one of them has reset 20 times which means there is no chance of watching Netflix. 

Cooper is probably the worst culprit.  Little does Cooper know that because we all share the same Apple ID, we all see how often he calls his girlfriend.  Which seems to be right now.  Aaaannnnd right now.  Annnnnnd right about now.  Not sure how he has time to watch Netflix.

Griffin seems to have more time.  And pings the family chat with a uniquely Griffin flair: 

On the whole, everyone is relatively normal.  Cooper has two more semesters left at the University of Richmond. Griffin just started college at Kenyon.  Christian is a freshman at the high school.  Ben just celebrated his one year work anniversary in Boston.  Polly is busy with LivingConcord, running food drives for Open Table, and of course managing me.

And I am looking up at the hole in the ceiling and thinking of the bigger hole which is that my father died this year.  As my brother says, he got to circle the sun a blessed and wonderful 87 times and I know he is not far away.  In fact, I think he is inside this cardinal outside.  Who is giving me this look like “how about you fix the ceiling.”

The last time I went to Home Depot unchaperoned I came home with an ax, 400 christmas lights, a light fixture that was the wrong size and a ladder that is too short to reach the gutters and too big to bring inside.  Which means it is a large piece of metal.  The problem is that I had gone to get a screen for the drier.  And when you go WAY back to the beginning of this letter to the “did you remember” part you can guess what happened to that.  Polly is helpfully picking lint off of my sweater as she reads this over my shoulder.

Ben thankfully keeps us all in line.  He is like Michael Bluth in Arrested Development.  I called him yesterday wondering if he would pick up while he was at work.  Which he did!  “What are you doing?”  Silence.  “Would you judge me if I said I was doing a puzzle?”  “Yes.”  “I may or may not be doing a puzzle.” 

It is beyond a blessing to have everybody home.  We are a bunch of goofballs.  And hope that you are surrounded by goofballs of your own.  Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

All love,

Christian, Polly, Ben (24), Cooper (21), Griffin (18), Christian (14), Riley and Maggie (dogs) 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s