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Browsing Tag: take-out

Our Bank Account Wasn’t So Happy, Either

With two trips to Connecticut and a weekend out in Indiana for this past weekend’s Notre Dame-USC game (IRISH!), David had been away for the better part of two weeks. It’s good to have him home, even if it means there’s a couple extra pairs of shoes by the back door we get to trip over (he has big feet, so, you know. Big shoes). I don’t know if other parents feel like this when their spouses travel, but when he’s gone, I feel like I’m holding my breath for much of the day, just trying to keep everything–the kids, the chores, the pets, the errands–under some vague sense of control until bedtime. When he travels, by the end of the day, every cell in my body is sore–it’s the kind of tired that lets you know you’ve earned your keep on the planet that day. But it’s also the kind of tired that sometimes condones you serving the kids eggs and toast for dinner AGAIN, and possibly not showering until the day David arrives…

Battle of Wills

The scene: We’re at the dinner table, Sunday night. We’ve settled down around a meal of take-out Italian, because, unlike the Norman Rockwellian family that gathers together over pot roast and mashed potatoes on Sunday, the idea of washing that many dishes is overwhelming this evening, so we beg the pardon of Mother Earth and dive in to our plastic containers. Please don’t judge us. Desperate times call for really bad environmentalism. The characters: David, quietly drinking his beer. Me, sort of drinking my own beer while sniveling unattractively through a haze of autumn hay fever. Quinn, actually sucking the cheese out of her ravioli, then, before we can stop her, throwing the pasta carcasses over the back of her high chair for the dog to catch. She’s happy, though, so that counts for something. Saoirse, meanwhile, is pitching a fit. A full-on, whiny, moaning, crying fit. The conflict: Saoirse wants bread. She has requested chicken tenders. (Yes, this former full-on vegetarian who only buys organic food for her family has fallen headfirst into the modern American fast-food trap, so chicken tenders it is. Stop the judgment, already…