It's different when it's mostly just me and them, at home. All the awkwardnesses of the subjects we don't discuss, for example. The moments when they forget I'm in my thirties now, and speak to me as if I were twelve. My mother's surprising attempts to connect with me as an adult -- pleasant, but decidedly odd. (And I really don't know what to say when she asks me things like, "Does Kevin like the new haircut?" Umm...I don't really know. Maybe?
Still, it's nice to see them again, and to be here. The house is so familiar. And one of my cousins is visiting; she's thirteen, and doesn't normally like to read (!), but liked the Harry Potter books so much that she's writing one of her own, featuring a Malfoy girl. How cool is that? It's not bad, either -- imaginative! We won't discuss the grammar. :-) I don't get to criticize in any case, given that she's into her second chapter, and I've barely finished the first chapter of my fantasy novel...
Oof, groggy. Early bed for me, I think. Tomorrow morning, I'll try to do a chunk of work. Not really doing much else for the next two days. Going back to Arabian Nights, since I finished Years of Rice and Salt (which I'd classify as a very ambitious failure, I think). Working, sleeping, eating my mother's cooking, mmmm.... Oh, I might ask them if I can borrow the car and practice some more. We'll see what they think of that!