Eventually, we got really good at being just-the-four-of-us. Okay, maybe not really good - but, hey, nobody died and we're still together. But, starting in 2007, the kids started to disappear. First Frankie; then Michael. We were back to just-the-two-of-us and, although sad at first, we got good at it again.

Over the last 18 months or so, we've had one kid move in and out and in again. It really changes the dynamics - and floor space - when you add a third body (and personality) to the mix. He's been here for about 10 months now and we've adapted, as much as we're going to. Then, last night -- he left.

Granted, it's not a permanent move; he just went to spend the weekend with his older brother. But - Wow! It's quiet in here! And he's not even that noisy. If the room were bigger and you couldn't see him - constantly - out of the corner of your eye, you probably wouldn't even know he was here.

So how does the presence, or lack thereof, of one not-so-noisy person make the whole place seem different? I don't know, but I'll be glad when he gets home on Sunday. The silence is deafening!