One of the (few) things I miss about the winter weather in New England is the handy excuse to stay in and do nothing for an entire day. The kids and I used to do “blizzard days” where everyone was allowed to stay in their jammies, watch as much television as they liked, and generally withdraw from polite society for the day.
Cheerios by the handful? Sure! Build a giant couch fort? Why not! Learn to be a hermit like your mother? OKAY!
We don’t have weather like that, here. Plus I have this husband who believes in accomplishing things and hanging out with people and stuff, so lazy days can be hard to come by.
Fortunately this weekend the stars aligned.
Ingredients for an awesome Saturday:
1) Husband away on a trip. (Sorry, honey. We love you. But if you’d been here we all would’ve been spreading pine straw out front or something, and you know it.)
2) Gray, overcast morning followed by a rainy afternoon/evening.
3) Sleeping in. (Unless you happen to have four legs, in which case it was more like “bark your head off, go outside to pee, run around in circles, wonder why the one with the coffee cup seems a little cranky.”)
4) One warm, cuddly, lazy puppy.
5) Endless television and then Corpse Bride before bed. (Good wholesome undead family entertainment.)
6) An entire day of breakfast food. (Cereal for breakfast, pancakes for lunch, eggs for dinner.)
Chickadee is jonesing to join an activity that involves a Saturday class. We don’t often have a completely slug-like day like the one we did this weekend, but I really think they’re good for the soul, and I’m reluctant to schedule something on the one day when we CAN just turn off the world and stay in and hide. Sometimes I wonder if I’m teaching the kids the value of a quiet mental health day or if I’m just being lazy, when we do that, but generally if I take a nap my concerns seem to pass.
Those sorts of opt-out days are made for pondering the deep questions in life, you know? Like:
Why is egg in the hole clearly superior to just having eggs over-easy with toast? Is it the circular piece of toast from the cut out? Is it that the bread is grilled in butter rather than toasted and THEN buttered? Is it just that my kids are weird?
Why will the same children who turn up their nose at fruit either on or in their pancakes beg me to make them a dutch baby with cinnamon apples and then go on and on about how good it is? I’m pretty sure this one is because they’re weird. Because WOE BETIDE the person who puts those very same cinnamon apples on a regular pancake, dude. Seriously. Don’t even try it.
How does a dog whose center of gravity is only about a foot off the ground manage to jump high enough in the air to knock me in the chest? Does she have springs in her feet?
Does it count as a productive day if I do the laundry? How about if I clean the bathrooms inbetween episodes of Hannah Montana?
[Typical conversation during Hannah Montana:
“This is the dumbest show I’ve ever seen.”
“Billy Ray Cyrus is kind of creepy.”
“We should watch something else.”
“Want me to paint your nails?”
“Why are we watching this?”
“I have no idea.”]
We made some videos of the dog. That was almost like expending actual energy! Okay, I’m lying. It didn’t really take any energy at all.
And I let them have ice cream sandwiches for dessert after their eggs. Because sometimes you work up a powerful hunger for processed sugar after a hard day of doing nothing.