My cousin, who moved down here a month and a half ago, moved the rest of his family down on Sunday– his awesome wife and their two totally cool kids. Thus, I have a cousin here and my kids now have cousins here.
It’s been non-stop partying, people.
When she was leaving the house today, my 5-year old cousin asked, “Can we do this again tomorrow?” In less than a week, we’ve shared more meals than I can count. We’ve been bouncing back and forth from their apartment to our house. We’ve consumed copious amounts of sugar (one day at the cupcake store, the next day ice cream at home). It could be a sugar-high that has us laughing hysterically at each other’s jokes, or the fireworks we shot off this evening, or the endless hours of imaginative play, or the never-ending chai boiled in the pot on the stove. But I suspect it’s a cousin-high– that special kind of exhileration that for the past couple decades in my life I’ve experienced only in little bits and pieces, rushed through during holidays, after long airline flights.
Perhaps after school starts again, when we’re back to getting up early and homework, the cousin-moon will end. But I’m savoring every minute until then, this unbelievable reunion with my cousin who I barely got to see while growing up because he lived in India, who then moved to the northeast, took a job in the midwest, had a family, and then relocated to Atlanta.
It’s the best kind of summer there is.