Last night I took a zucchini over to my mom. We pretty much had a weed garden this year, except for the zucchini. Holy moly, those things are on steroids. So when my mom asked if we had any extra I was happy to oblige. I mean, there's only so much you can do with three ginormous zucchinis. (Luckily my mom has experience in the "huge zucchini" department as that was part of her green thumb too. She is an expert zucchini bread maker.)
But anyway, I brought one of those bad boys over to my parents' house, only planning on saying hello, and ended up staying for almost two hours. Can I just say that it was an absolute lovely chat with them? The quiet was just, well, amazing. I can not remember the last time we've been able to sit together and have an extended conversation because usually there are two little children constantly vying for attention. And we all love those darling children dearly, but my goodness I didn't realize just how hard it is to have a conversation with them around until they weren't there.
We caught each other up on friends and talked politics (I can say the conversation was pleasant because we are in the same political camp). They told me stories from their trip to Australia (those jet-setters!). And we talked about kids and parenthood, and they even reminded me that I was a painfully shy child, so Hope does come by it quite naturally. (Poor kid.)
I know it's happened before, but my few hours with them felt like a conversation among friends. Which you can imagine felt very special to me. I don't always get a chance to connect with them because I am preoccupied by hungry mouths, poopy diapers, or the chaos that is two young children.
I left my parents' house with a smile on my face. And, as corny as it sounds, a smile in my heart. I love my parents and feel so very happy to have the memory of our quiet conversation together.
Thank goodness for oversized zucchinis.