February 6, 2012
I was watching episodes of Roseanne and came across the one where Roseanne thinks she pregnant.
She's not.
But it got me wondering what would happen if I was to get pregnant again.
Not that me getting pregnant is a possibility.
I wish it was.
Sometimes.
Nonetheless, I expect that Stephen would have a heart attack and Keith and Em would move out.
Hhhhhmmmmmmm. . . . .
Last evening was lovely.
Stephen suggested tacos for supper.
We bought the necessary ingredients.
So after getting home from work. . . .
. . . .yes, work on a Sunday. . .it was the quietest place I could think of. . . .
and Victory because we needed chicken and stuff. . . .
when I arrived home Stephen was ready for me to make tacos.
As I was cooking the ground beef for tacos and for spaghetti sauce because there was simply far too much ground beef to be consumed in one meal, people started trickling in and asking if there was something they could do.
Stephen shredded cheese, cut peppers, set the table and then brought my winter composting bins to the deck so I could purge the fridge.
Emily came home, even turning her signal light on to signal she was turning into the driveway.
She came into the kitchen and the next thing I know she's adding the seasoning to the beef, heating the refried beans, and concluding that she will be having sour cream on her tacos because if she is eating tacos she's eating them properly.
Pookie shredded the lettuce,
All of this allowing me to not only make dinner for tonight, later this week, I was able to even whip up an apple crisp.
Well, part of an apple crisp.
Pookie made the top part.
Popped it in the oven.
Put the timer on.
This collective activity lead to a wonderful meal.
Everyone sitting around, talking about their week.
Because lately the opportunities to sit down together for a meal have been few and far between.
Between Keith's classes, work and volunteer work, plus the lounging in his man cave, and Em going to school, work, and driving around in her car by herself because she can and that's all the reason she needs, we haven't seen much of them.
At all.
To the point where texting has become a primary means of communication.
A sad comment on the state of our busy lives.
Getting together has become very important.
Mer is coming on Tuesday.
Roast chicken.
Em and the car.
What is there to say.
She has the car, she's driving it.
Friday she brought me home and we didn't see her again until the next afternoon.
Sunday morning I got up just as she was getting ready to head out for the afternoon.
But she did arrive home for dinner and stayed home for the evening.
The real question is, if Em has her licence, can drive herself to school, how come I am up this early on a Monday when I don't have to teach?
Because Em's first day of having her car to drive to school has been superseded by the fact that said car squeaks and squeals, has no heat, and the Check Engine light is still on.
So Stephen and I are following through with our Christmas/Birthday gifts for Em and her car is going in for repairs this morning.
We'll park it in the student lot at the high school, as we have been told several times she can't park in the other lot, even though I've seen other students park there but it isn't worth the hassle of arguing with her because she knows everything.
And she can drive herself home from school.
Tomorrow morning, though, I will be up and outta here by 6.30 am.
Because I won't have to wait.
Muahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. . . . . .
Title Lyric: Digsy's Dinner by Oasis
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