Having been home from Ireland for about a week, now, I've been asked several times "So, how was your trip?" Of course, that question is usually preceded by "Hey! What do you want?" and followed by "Now, get off my lawn." Anyway, the quick and obvious answer is "Great!" However, to be totally honest, that response needs some modification. The actual trip...the co-travellers...the education about Ireland...the sights...the sounds...the people: all fall into that "great" category. However, being away from the kids, the house, KC and, of course, the dog: not so great. I'll admit it: I get homesick.

Back about 16 years ago, my wife, Jessica, and I had a chance to host a trip. We were to take that Alaskan Train/Cruise deal. At first, it seemed like a wonderful idea. Then, I got home and took a look at the boys...then ages one and two...and decided we just couldn't be away from them. So, we passed on the opportunity. I knew I'd be a basket case leaving them for ten days. Not too long before, about 1988 BC...Before Children...Jessica and I went to Cancun. At the time, the only living creature we were directly responsible for was Jingles, the dachshund/chihuahua pooch. We spent the first night surrounded by the beauty of the Mexican Shoreline...all weepy and sad over that dog. Okay, it was mostly me doing the weeping.

Well, this time around, with one kid away at college, the rest in middle and high school and, most reassuring of all, grandma and grandpa kindly agreeing to fly in and hold down the fort, I figured I could make it through. I did but, to be honest, about six days in, I was starting to feel a bit anxious. During the day, being pretty busy, I was okay but at night...falling asleep...I could imagine all kinds of scenarios: What if Harrison, who has never done such a thing before, decides to take the riding mower off the garage roof? (We don't even have a riding mower!) What if Samantha decides to quit school and pursue her, hitherto unknown, dream of being the world's most tattooed person? What if Taylor, who has always been a very responsible driver, decides to change his name to Evel and see how much speed it takes to sail across the Little Blue River? What if Alex, away at school, decides to shed his clothing and sing Neil Diamond tunes from atop the Liberty Memorial?

Then, there's the house. As with many houses, there are little glitches and tweaks you need to know. For example, to keep the boys' toilet from overflowing, you need to wiggle the handle, jump up and down three times while chanting "Bubble. Bubble. Toil and hype. Please, oh please, go down the pipe!" The sump pump downstairs needs to sung to from time to time...something from the light classics usually works. The garage door opener requires the occasional talking to or it gets snooty. Frankly, there are many times when I come home from work and I can hear the house conspiring against me: "Heh. Heh. Heh. (That's how conspiratorial houses laugh.) He thinks he may actually have a dollar left at the end of the month...we'll just see about that. Roof, you lose some shingles. Fridge, start spitting artichokes out of the ice-maker. And, heater, start rattling and moaning. That should do it."

Finally, the dog. He is not pleased with me. To be fair, he did get regular walks. He got fed. He got attention. But, he is very perturbed that I was gone for ten days. I know this because he short-sheeted the bed and has not spoken to me since we've gotten home except to tell me to get off the couch and quit begging at the table. He's getting sarcastic. The other day, when I left to run some errands, I told the dog I'd be gone for just a little bit...an hour or so. He sneered: "Sure. Whatever. See you when you have time. Fine." I'm hoping he comes around soon. I hate taking my walks all by myself in the afternoon. I look silly holding a leash and pooper-scooper without an accompanying dog.

The bottom-line is that the kids, the dog, the grandparents, the house, the neighborhood all survived just fine. In fact, the neighbors told me that property values actually improved in my absence. To be honest, as I've said before in this silly space, it's not that I'm ever going to be Father Of The Year. I don't play a lot Monopoly, Scrabble or, more my speed, Candyland. I don't lead sing-a-longs. I can be pretty dictatorial about the TV. I do get aggravated. But, I'd rather be home and irked than away and worried!