Home again, home again, dancing a jig...

The girls I reared will recall their mom spouting this little jingle...home, again... (I can just imagine the raised eyebrows, rolling eyes) when we pulled into our driveway in Rosedale, or Baton Rouge in years past. Not unlike the little witticism I uttered when I picked up one daughter or another from school or activity, or we piled into the car after a dinner out: "Home, James!" After declaring loudly and often that I will never, ever exhibit the unimaginative, embarrassing and totally parent-like habit of repeating little un-funny sayings, I've gone and done it often enough to elicit these "looks" from my own children. My satisfaction will come from hearing similar, if not identical, phrases when these girls go all silly over their own children. The only parent among them already has her set of toddler-age expressions, to be followed by school-age momisms, etc. Just listen up the next time she pops the little guy into the stroller, serves up lunch or hears daddy's car outside.

"It's all good!" as the saying goes. This is what parents do. The point of the post today is to register surprise that I find myself repeating variations of these silly sayings to, yes, the dog. What's great and no less surprising is that the utterances come automatically to my lips as we turn onto Opelousas Blvd.: "Home again, Cal!." I think I've made the transition to NOLA proud!!