Back in the day, I never appreciated being by myself. If I happened to be in this most unfortunate position, I would spend the entire time wondering where everyone was and why I wasn’t invited. Oh, the waste of it all.
Now? A night alone is like winning the jackpot! Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with my boys (hubby and son). It’s just every once in awhile, there is a need to rebalance the energy around here with a little less testosterone and a little more fabulousness. In other words:
- hockey or football do not need to be playing on the ridiculous number of TV’s we apparently need;
- making the dogs bark for the sheer entertainment of it all is not necessary or desirable;
- ice cream every night is not essential to your survival; and
- trying to outdo each other’s farts and burps does not establish ownership over the household.
Last night, the boys went on a school camping trip and I got to be ALONE. In other words, I:
- exercised out on the back deck (without any hecklers trying to disrupt my concentration);
- ate half of a leftover burger and some salad followed by half a cookie, a tablespoon of peanut butter, a glass of wine and a cup of detox tea (without having to explain why this wasn’t weird or contradictory);
- watched taped reruns of the Bachelorette and Housewives of who knows where (without any comments about how dumb these are);
- had a bath (without anyone banging on the door telling me to hurry up); and
- appreciated the silence (no one asked me where anything was).
It was a great night, the goal of doing absolutely nothing of substance was accomplished and I am ready for the crew to arrive home today with their dirty laundry in tow and fill the house back up with the bantering that makes it a home sweet home.