Gonna Get Awfully Quiet Round Here

Well, Chepa and her boyfriend--who came in a couple of days ago--just left for Indiana for a month or two, and they took their kids, Sierra and Alexa, with them. Which means it's gonna get awfully quiet round here for a while. It's been a rollicking madhouse, what with two parties for Madeleina this week--her real birthday with just family and then the bar-b-que on Saturday which was as good as promised. And lots of people showed, so there were cousins and nieces and nephews and my pal Lynn and his family and a couple of friends of Chepa's from Peru. And that was splendid.
But now the little girls are gone and I miss them already. I know they're not mine but I still love them to death and their real dad always seems like an interloper to me. He comes and goes as work permits, takes the kids for a month here and a month there, and I've got no say. Dammit! I sometimes wish I did, because if it was up to me they'd stay right here with Italo and Marco and Madeleina--or at least close enough to stop by to wreak a little mayhem most days.
Don't mean to get weepy on you guys, just saying I'm used to them and that there's something special in being "Mr P Garman!"
On a brighter note, Madeleina broke all school rules when she went to school this morning wearing a hoodie, underneath which was her brand new electric-pink wig. She's probably being lectured as I write this, but what the heck. I just laughed when I saw she'd snuck it into the car.
"Might as well put it on, baby..."
"You're not mad, dad?"
"Of course not. So you're get scolded, but not by me."
"I'm gonna tell them mom was going to give me pink highlights but then she slipped on some water and dumped the whole bucket of pink on my head. Think they'll go for that?"
"Not a chance, but it's a good story."
"Maybe I should say you were painting and dropped the bucket on my head..."
"Just put the wig on and stick with story number one. Dropping a bucket of paint on your head is a little too severe."
"You're right. See you dad. Pick me up at 3:15. Don't be late."
And then off she went, running up the walkway to the school door.
Yes, sir, that's my baby, no sir, don't mean maybe; yes, sir, that's my baby now.