Oops, I'm a kid again

I'd like to think that I am not as disconnected with family life as I probably am. Or perhaps I just have unrealistic expectations of myself.

I knew I was going home this Sunday evening, and I thought I could accomplish a couple simple things within the familiar walls of my Allendale house. My goal to finish the lingering page and conclusion of my Transcendental term paper might have been a bit steep. I also wanted to prepare my directing rehearsal for tomorrow afternoon and perhaps write 2 or 3 journal entries. Ha.

With thoroughly scholarly intentions, I peregrinated away from my college roommates to my family home. 45 minutes later, I found myself giving my nine year old brother a piggy back ride while he pressed his hands over my eyes and mischievously shouted directions for me to stumble to. I ran into the refrigerator, my parent's bed, the stairs, and a closet door--to his utter amusement.

Somehow, I was even recorded for my sister's video blog with my hair brushed in front of my face with goggles over my "eyes," acting like an alien.

What's wrong with me? One moment I'm an adult, and the next moment, I'm inside of a closet, held captive by my kid brother (singing a Mario song), trying to manipulate my freedom with a tickly duster.

I have responsibilities! I'm a junior in college and I'm supposed to have a novel read by tomorrow and I need to contemplate my thoroughly passionate and culturally riveting senior project. Also, my exams are in three short weeks...

Will I be able to make significant strides surrounded by my family, if I live at home next year--where I will probably find myself with underwear on my head, scooping out bowls of ice cream singing the "Bert and Ernie" song from Sesame Street? Can I say that my family brings out the best in me?

...

I might have an incomplete paper for tomorrow's class, and I might not be completely on top of tomorrow's rehearsal, but at least I shared a couple hours with my family (and some silly memories with my rapidly growing baby brother).

When I look back on my life as a young adult--what will be more important?