In Which Mrs. Brown is Resurrected In Obscurity

It has been some years since Mrs. Brown has made an appearance here. Fear not. It is not that Mrs. Brown has not been thriving, only that she has been living in obscurity.

A lot has come and gone since Mrs. Brown's last appearance. The little Brown boys have grown into strapping young men, taller than their mother. Baby Brown is no longer a baby, in fact, a lively grade one boy. Mrs. Brown herself has aged and sagged and blossomed into a ripe age of forty. Mr. Brown is the only one who appears much the same as the bygone years with only a sprinkling of grey in his hair and beard.

Mrs. Brown has many days worthy of 'Mrs. Brown Stories'. The only problem is a chance to record them. Like most forty-year-old mothers, Mrs. Brown has found that her once busy, lively life has morphed into a rendition of everything turned up to the speed of time and a half. The days fly by. What she once thought was busy now appears in memory as only a snail-paced leisurely stroll.

If Mrs. Brown thought babies up all night was something, she can now listen for her sons to get home from youth long after she's in bed. If she thought rousting grade five boys out of bed and making sure they brushed their teeth was a good workout, she can now wake to the smell of coffee made at five am when one son leaves for work or listen for footsteps when another son arrives home off the combine at two am. If Mrs. Brown thought being youth-leaders with toddlers was challenging, well, she was right. It was. But with older boys and one preschooler she managed six months of school board duties and Villa board duties, simultaneously.

There are myriad problems with the whole concept of stories about teenage boys; teenage boys do not care to be part of stories, Mrs. Brown or not. Teenage boys need a lot of privacy and respect.

And here we shall part again with Mrs. Brown, hoping to meet once again, soon, even in obscurity.