Younger Son has been at Army basic training at Fort Jackson for several weeks now. We are extremely proud of him, despite the fact that without him around, I’ve lost a major source of blog ideas. It’s been rather quiet around our house. It’s also amazing how long our chips and cheese have lasted now that Younger Son isn’t around to make nachos every day. The juice has lasted, too, and we don’t have to hide our Oreos. In fact, our grocery bill has dramatically decreased. And laundry is much easier. I simply carry the dirty clothes basket from our bedroom to the laundry room, add the things that were tossed down the laundry chute, and place them in the washer. No hunting and gathering. I’m still keeping his bedroom door closed to cut down on the funky odor that lingers there despite multiple cleanings, but fortunately, we haven’t had any guests wanting to use that room.

We get a once-a-week phone call from Younger Son, generally lasting a whole two minutes. At least we know he’s still alive, even if he mainly reports that the drill sergeants are not touchy-feely people. But we have yet to get a letter. In desperation, Hubby devised a brilliant plan. We sent Younger Son the following form in a self-addressed stamped envelope with a sticky note on the outside that read: Fill in, sign, and return. (We have yet to get the form back.)