Hospitality

I've read that "Hospitality is the art of making someone feel at home when you wish they really were."

I think Aila wished we were all "at home" when the *new* baby, and me, and numerous cousins and aunts and uncles, and her grandparents, invaded her peaceful life. There were people sleeping in the guest room, on her bedroom floor, on the futon in the living room. And messy boy cousins were messing up her orderly pink bedroom. Aaron and Andy (three and two) had made themselves at home in her bedroom, which meant pulling out ALL the toys and books. Aila walked in and, after surveying the damage, she said only two words: "Uh oh."

And then, when I had been making myself at home in their guest room for about a week, Aila entered to retrieve a red belt of mine (which she calls a "jump rope"). The bed was unmade, there were clothes and shoes here and there, and Aila announced her verdict to us at the kitchen table: "Messy."