“Will is coming” is something my oldest son tells me he can’t say in front of his dog or his toddler.

General mayhem ensues, with barking and excitement and leaning on the front door waiting for “Uncle Will” to arrive and play and wrestle and tease.  “Will is coming” in never said out loud unless he is within three blocks of the house.  The anticipation is just plain overwhelming.

We’re feeling a little like that ourselves.  I’m not leaning against the car door waiting to leave for the airport, but I have filled the refrigerator with lots of good stuff.

Like bacon.

And barbecued ribs.

These guys are tired of waiting for the plane to land, so they have gone off to buy a kayak or two.

We already know there will be campfires.

And fishing.

He will bring new songs for us to listen to, new books for us to read, archeaology news to discuss, college football predictions and movie reviews.  I suspect the conversations will be unending, because this particular son is a chatty guy.

“Will is coming”.

There.  I said it out loud.