Embrace

Brother had been begging all week to go spend the night at his grandparent's house. I think the whole infatuated request started when I wouldn't buy him french fries. As I am declining to visit the Golden Arches, he starts saying, "I want to go to Grandma and Popo's house!" Under his breath, I hear him whisper, "They would buy me french fries."

Well, then.

And he is right. They would have dropped everything and went out and obliged him with the golden crispy-ness that is McDonald's fries. Baby crack, as it were. (And big people crack as well. I love those fries. Too much, as I mentally pat my belly.) But he kept up his request for the next couple days and I called my mom to see if she would like to have a guest on Friday night. Of course they would! My god, did I even have to ask? She and my father would happily keep both of the boys if Jelly Bean wasn't nursing at night still. (But he is. I have read too many accounts of women night weaning their babies and losing their milk supply because they were working, like me, and didn't really nurse too much during the day. So I am paranoid. Sue me.) So I brought Brother to Fancyville, where my parents live. It is only about 25 minutes away and a nice drive. Honey met me in Fancyville and we all went out for Mexican. Quite a treat because my father rather doesn't like the margaritas and chips experience.

At about 8 o'clock, we decided to hit the road, Honey, Jelly, and I. Honey and I drove home separately as we had both of our vehicles there. As I was driving home, listening to the soft rock radio station playing quietly with a still, sleeping baby in the backseat, gently breathing, I noticed what a nice glow the red tail lights of the cars in front of mine shed. How the dark silhouettes of the numerous trees stacked closely on both sides of the Interstate were intimate and comforting, as if in a universal embrace, like Mother Nature guiding us home.