Mr. Rugby giving me the eye for snapping a photo during movie night.
I really do want to go home. I can’t wait, in fact. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to miss being here with my boys. Following are just a few things, activities, people, I know I’m going to pine for. In no particular order.
Watching My Sons Eat
It costs me more than a thousand dollars a month to feed them, but I so love watching them eat. Mr. Happy is all speed at the table, scarfing down whatever’s in front of him so he can get back to watching soccer or, as he calls it, fútbol. I’m always like, Dude! Indigestion! Slow down. But, nope. Mr. Rugby on the other hand, savors every morsel. I didn’t always serve corn but, after watching him spear Each Individual Kernel, stick his fork in his mouth and nod with pleasure, I do now. It’s kinda sweet until it makes us late starting movie night. And then I’m like, Yo, corn boy. We’re switching to popcorn! Best Part: They’re both healthy, despite the fact that I make every meal.
Movie Night
You haven’t lived until you’ve screamed with fright watching the Cloverfield trio followed by Life, while your kids glare at you and say helpful things like, “It’s just a movie, mom!” Best Part: Asking each other if Calvin’s called or stopped by (God forbid) for days afterward.
Opening Mr. Happy’s Visa Bill
When I assumed my duties as Warden, I took responsibility for improving Mr. Happy’s financial “health.” Let me tell you, his Visa bill was unlike anything I’d ever seen, and I can spend me some money. Now, I rip open that statement and celebrate. Mr. Happy can’t go online so he can’t shop online and I swear the people at Wells Fargo are like, What the fuck? They keep increasing his limit and he keeps not shopping. It’s gotta be driving their marketing department bonkers. And the plaintive, begging, We Want You Back! emails he gets from MLSStore.com, Emo’s Not Dead, and Lids are pretty funny, too. Best Part: Even when I go home, I’m still in charge and he STILL can’t go online. Yay!
Being Chilly
As I’ve recently been reminded, Florida is not always the bastion of warmth we think it is. In fact there are days when it’s damn cold. But I’ve enjoyed the chilly, rainy (but rarely snowy) days in Virginia. I find it comforting being holed up with a book and a blanket I usually end up sharing with the cats, knowing we’re all safe and sound. Best Part: Remembering to be grateful for all the good stuff that’s come from a bad situation.
The Cats
Tanner and Trigger. The loves of Mr. Happy’s life. When they hear the car horn beep upon his return from work, they race to the door to greet him. When he goes to bed, he says “C’mon guys,” and they follow him. Honestly, those cats are dogs! Mr. Rugby adores them, too, and has begun campaigning for a kitten of his own. Best Part: Not being there for the hissing and turf wars certain to ensue when Mr. Rugby makes his move. Me-OWWWW.
My Girlfriends
Close proximity to the women who know me best – and love me anyway – has been the highlight and the saving grace of this entire experience. Jenn, Charity, Sandra, and Pam, I will miss you so much I don’t even want to think about it. Thank you for getting me through this year. And not laughing too hard when I attempted “Damp” January. Best Part: Knowing the flight to Florida isn’t too long or too expensive so, hopefully, you’ll come visit. Just not in January.
My New Favorite Writing Spot
The left side of the sofa, with my laptop resting on the arm and my knee. I sit here all curled up, tapping away, happy as a pig in poo right up until the moment my legs cramp and I’m stuck, practically crippled, and have to call one of the kids to pull me up. Best Part: Going home to my true favorite writing spot – my white desk in my white office overlooking the pond. And the iguanas. I do so love my freaky lizard friends.
Thank you for taking this long, strange trip with me. I appreciate you and your many comments and emails. If you’d like to read parts 1-37, you can do so here.
Love the simple joys 😊
I am so happy that you are closer to going home. Keep the faith, Susan…