This post is late and a bit abbreviated, but I have my reasons. More accurately, I have one reason—a very small but good one.

Have you ever had a houseguest whose departure you’re kind of looking forward to but whom you know you will miss terribly as soon as they’re gone? I have one right now, and while I have truly enjoyed our time together, I nonetheless am beginning to long for my pre-guest life. My friend is absolutely delightful….charming, really, but has some unfortunate habits, it must be said. As it’s the first time she’s stayed with me, I’ve been caught a bit off guard. The main category of offense is, I would say, a rather alarming lack of respect for boundaries. She routinely goes into areas of my home which have been designated off limits, snooping around; she ignores the meal which has been provided for her, only to help herself to mine and that of another who lives here; she does not observe the bedtime routines which have been established; and her brazen invasion of my and my companion’s personal space is beyond the pale. Any plans I’ve had to be productive this weekend have simply gone out the window, as most of my energies have been spent entertaining and reining in this guest. To top it all off—I hesitate to mention this but feel I must—how can I put it…..I fear that my guest may have left a few unpleasant surprises for me to uncover after she leaves.

In all fairness, she does have some redeeming qualities, the most noteworthy of which is an unabashedly affectionate nature. My friend does not hold back in expressing her love for me, and in fact insists on accompanying me wherever I go to the point of hanging on to the bottom of my pants legs such that I drag her along as I walk to another room (weird, I know.) Late last night when I finally collapsed in front of the tv after what one would think was a full quota of one on one time with each other, she contentedly sat with me and didn’t really care what we were watching, as her focus was solely on me. In fact, she gazed into my eyes, nibbled on my fingers, licked my face, and settled right into a cozy spot wrapped around my neck. For an hour and a half.

My son is coming to pick her up in a few hours, I think. He had a bachelor party camping trip this weekend, on the heels of an exhausting last six or so months of working on someone’s campaign. He called to tell me that he was on his way home, but asked if I would mind if he took a nap before picking up my guest, who is his newly acquired housemate. Not at all, I replied. As I said, as soon as she’s gone I know I’ll miss her, so I will savor these last hours, and stifle any impatience at the disruption of my routine. My companion, on the other hand, will not.

Note: She’s gone, and I’m heartbroken….bereft. I’m looking at her food bowls, the little bed I set up for her, the scattered toys, the…..what the heck is that suspicious looking, half squished object on the floor of the pantry , which had been turned into her private suite? I bend over for a closer look, and realize that she has, indeed, left me a memento of her stay. I hastily dispose of it in the nearby powder room. A small and forgivable infraction for one with so big a heart—so warm a presence. I cannot wait to have her here again.