Children 1 and 3 are out of town this week.
I do love them so.
But they are out of town.
As in far, faaaaar away from here.
Which means that even if I listen hard, even if I put a cup to the wall and lean my ear up against it, even if I slow down my own darn heartbeat because it's interfering with my ability to hear, even then?
I can't hear Child 3 at all.
Child 3 has a talent for noise.
Commonly heard phrases in our house:
"Child 3! PLEASE no more percussion"
"That includes thumping your belly"
"And your sibling"
"And ME! Get off 3!"
"And no nose flute either"
"Child 3, are you quite sure you don't need to go outside and take a nice, long run?"
A week or so ago Child 3 took a cardboard box, a strip of steel flashing, a plank of wood, a rope and some hot glue and created The Childolin. Because what was missing in Child 3's life was something it could grab up at a moment's notice and shout, "hey! Guess what song I'm playing! It's Diary of Jane! On the Childolin! Listen again!" [note: I will post a picture of the Childolin but it will have to wait because darn old Child 1 selfishly took its digital camera with it on the trip]
So having packed Child 3 up (and double checked its toothbrush AND its ID that took 3 days to find) I sent it and its sibling off on Monday with many loving little words of farewell and a song in my heart.
And for the last three days it has been blissfully, remarkably quiet.
Golly, I kind of miss It.