I took my girls home tonight. It's been great having them here since Boxing Day - a much longer time than we usually get to spend with them, and even when we don't do much more than eat, talk and watch TV, it's still wonderful to be able to spend time with them and just be "normal."
But however long they stay, there always comes that time when I have to take them "home." The trips back to Yorkshire are totally different from the journeys to Manchester. When I pick them up, we all have news of what's happened since we last saw each other, school events, social events, how we're all getting along with various projects. We hardly stop talking until the moment we pull up outside the house.
On the way back? Mostly silence. We usually kill the emptiness by listening to some music (this time round, Black Holes and Revelations by Muse) but there's very rarely any conversation. I can't speak for them, but for me this is largely because I'm feeling a bit down knowing that I won't be seeing them again for a while - usually two weeks - and that I'm gonna miss them. The house always seems so quiet when I get back and they're not here.
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