Today, at one point as I wandered out of my office, I wondered where our Spanish daughter was. I had not seen–or heard–her for a little bit.
Then her laughter rang out: she was in the loft above me. Playing a video game, sitting next to our oldest son while he was working on homework for college.
We didn’t host any exchange students here until our oldest was off. OK. I’ll be blunt: we didn’t have a spare bedroom. But once he was going to live in a dorm, he was all for giving up his space here. “I’m not going to be living here. What difference does it make? Host an exchange student.”
He even painted his room and set it up for “Spanish daughter #1″, who arrived the fall of 2017.
So while he has been in and out, home for a weekend or a break, he’s largely not been the constant “brother” to our three Spanish daughters and one Brazilian son. He has not had the daily interaction.
This particular Spanish daughter has siblings the exact ages of our two boys. She’s very comfortable with them–and with her American younger sister, too, whom she sees as a bonus. It’s an special gift, especially in this odd time, to hear the two of them together.
I think it is kind of a silver lining to his being home. (Although I imagine he’s just being kind to not mention that he is now sharing a room with his brother…)