Yet another holiday season has given way to the month of January where many of us, already having forsaken our new year's resolutions are strolling down our own personal boulevard of broken dreams.
But that's pretty typical, no?
We did have a wonderful Christmas around here...lights twinkled from our windows, the aroma of baking wafted through the house, hot cocoa was consumed and, as tangible proof of the festivities, our triglyceride levels are a few points higher than before the holiday.
But then, as always is the case these days, the guests who had been draped across our furniture, hogging the best spots in front of the TV and -- in general -- giving us a reason to live, left.
Boom. Seth and I found ourselves alone again.
But we are, actually, doing better lately based on the fact that not only have we gotten used to the children breaking our hearts on a daily, if not momentary, basis but have learned to survive through lowered expectations (don't ask) and speaking as few actual words to each other as we can manage throughout the day.
We have also gotten weirder. As if that were even possible.
A simple illustration is how we now eat.....
When the kids lived at home -- slamming doors, abandoning shoes, books and sports equipment directly in front of the stairs and hoarding damp bath towels in their bedrooms so that I once had to dry myself with a paper towel after a shower, I took cooking seriously.
There would be salads and sides, main dishes and dessert and, most of the time, we actually did manage to eat together. Now that we are empty nesters, we see nothing wrong with single item meals.
|Do not fear the|
delicious Brussels Sprout.
For example, last night we shared an enormous tray of Brussels sprouts. And it was only because of some errant vestige of civility that we ate them off plates. Our newest inclination would be to enjoy them straight from the baking sheet upon which they'd been roasted.* Easy, fewer dishes.... and who's here to see us?
|Anybody with me |
Not to mention,we needed to transport them downstairs so we could watch re-runs of "The King of Queens," and it was less likely they'd roll all over the house if corralled in bowls. We are nothing if not practical.
A meal might also be a giant tub of popcorn...and nothing else. We are careful with butter and salt* in our older age but greasy lips and fingerprints cannot be avoided when this is our dinner du jour.
We also play little games with each other. A favorite includes hiding the TV remote, car keys or cell phone and cackling uproariously while the other stumbles about sobbing, but that's nothing compared to our newest game....
|If they are playing this|
correctly, his wife is trapped
One of us will, inadvertently exit the car before the other and then will, through the miracle of the remote door unlocking thingie (sorry to be so technical), keep the other trapped in the car until they indicate, via sign language that they are either actually starting to get scared or, upon release, will physically hurt the other.
Seth had me locked in his truck for so long one afternoon, prancing happily in the driveway while I repeatedly attempted to outdraw him on the interior lock, that I came very close to smashing out one of the windows. Sensing this, he released me as I was searching for something with which to shatter the glass.
So, children, while your parents miss you horribly and still question this growing up and moving out ridiculousness, we seem to be managing through bad eating and cruelty, if nothing else.
Now, when's your next visit home?
*Trim the root end of your sprouts, lightly coat them in olive oil, a little salt and pepper and spread out in a single layer on a baking sheet at 400 degrees for about 25 minutes. Yummmmmm!
**Add a little good quality olive oil to the butter for your popcorn...it doesn't change the taste and makes it less disastrous for your cardiac health.