three scenes from my weekend

Out to dinner at Dr. Brad’s place. Wine has been drunk. Salmon and cheesecake have been consumed. Air hockey has been played. Mountie-approved methods of incapacitating and crippling an attacker are demonstrated. My Lovely Wife says: “It’s like school, but with alcohol.”

Babysitting the Golden Child. Looking at a picture book of animals. Ask him to point out the duck. A tiny finger jabs the duck on the page. Ask him to point out the kitty-cat. He mashes the cat. Ask him where My Lovely Wife is. He looks at My Lovely Wife and smiles. Ask him where his Uncle J is. He looks at a chair. Die a little inside.

Arrive home moments before the season premiere of 24 begins. Throw some potato patties in the oven for a belated supper-like substitute. Set the oven timer for twenty minutes. Run upstairs to catch the first sight of Jack Bauer in 2006. Bounce up and down with glee for the next twenty minutes as the carnage ensues. Listen to the oven-timer start to beep from downstairs. Realise that no convenient commercial is likely to present itself. Run downstairs in a mad dash to get the patties on a plate before too much carnage occurs. As the patties are being thrown onto a plate, hear My Lovely Wife announce further carnage. Run upstairs three steps at a time with a plate full of potato patties. Bang shoulder against the upstairs corner and watch the plate (and potato patties) hit the floor. Take a second. Decide. Pick the patties up off the (admittedly freshly-cleaned) floor, blow on them, and put them on the largest remaining shard of plate. Enter the bedroom and continue watching the carnage. Eat the patties. Feel no shame.


4 Responses to “three scenes from my weekend”

  1. SassyK Says:

    That made me laugh so much! Ah domesticity, no shame to be had.

    We have gotten in the habit of using one plate together so as to adhere to bachelor rules and not have too much to wash up. I have conceded. So you can find us on any sunday morning standing over the sink in our unmentionables, one small plate and one knife between us, munching bagels with butter spread exactly to the edges. As he prefers this bachelor breakfast set up, I get him make mine for me (very cunning feminine manipulation of bachelorness). But I like it.

    About the Uncle J – maybe he knows you as something way cooler than that. (It took me a good ten seconds to figure our who uncle J was, my guess is he did too.)

  2. Otto Says:

    Don’t you have a PVR???

    Stop being a slave to broadcast television.

  3. sween Says:

    I have a PVR… in my mind. It is less effectual.

  4. sween Says:

    I forget what those bachelor rules are like, SassyK. We’ve only been married a year, but the NIE YEARS we were together before that have made me quite an expert at the couple’s life. :-)