Cousins Rock

My brother, his wife, and their kids arrived last night. Son spent the whole day yesterday wistfully drifting around the house, waiting for his cowboy- and pirate-loving four-year-old boy cousin to arrive. (The Little Sister, he asserted, could play with Daughter.) "Will they be here soon?" "When are they coming?" At dinner he looked up from his plate, fork suspended in mid-air before his first bite, and said plaintively "But Cousin isn't here yet!" I promised they would arrive before bedtime.

When the knock finally came, Son ran shrieking through the house, "Cousin! Cousin! Cousin! Cousin!" to answer the door. They were instant friends, although they haven't seen each other in more than a year. Which, if you're four, is a quarter of your life, so we might have expected a little hesitation. But no. Immediate pals. They are inseparable.

At bedtime, I was reading stories to the two boys, one snuggled under the covers on either side of me, when they both laughed uproariously at something having to do with a small duck afraid to learn to swim. Son stopped mid-laugh, looked adoringly at his still-giggling cousin, and said earnestly, "I wish you could stay here FOREVER."

This is going to be a fun week.