My house is so quiet that it is eerie.
It's eerie because two of my three boys are home. They just had their last day of school before the winter holiday, a half day, and they are home. And they are quiet. I mean SILENT quiet.
My oldest is busily, obsessively, and quietly on his way to solving the 5x5 Rubik's cube I gave him for his birthday two days ago. I'm guessing he will have it done by the end of the day or tomorrow at the latest.
My youngest is reading. Yes, reading. The reluctant reader is in his room reading a book and does not want to go anywhere or do anything, he wants to stay home because he is reading a good book. He is actually choosing to read rather than cruise the kitchen for any holiday sweets that might be lurking in drawers.
Even the dog is quietly lying at my feet and not jumping up every few minutes to see what I'm doing.
The quiet is so strange that I am slinking around trying to figure out what to do. I am just more used to trying to drown out noise so I can form coherent thoughts. With the absence of the noise, I still don't have any coherent thoughts.
I'm not going to waste this kind of tranquility on doing laundry. I'm going to enjoy this quiet because I know I will never again have it after I give my youngest son his Christmas present; an electric guitar.
What the f#%@ was I thinking?