This is how lame we are

Tonight is a perfect example of how lame Aaron and I really are as parents now. Not only does our social life come to a screeching halt at 7 pm everynight but if we do decide to hang out or be a willing part in the evolution of our community we usually have to have people over at our house, you know … because the baby’s sleeping.
Tonight is no exception. We decided to stay home, take in the most recent Netflix documentary together, eat raw cookie dough and laugh it up like the old days.
After putting Jessica to bed around 6:30 we start our hot date and about 15 minutes in to the documentary Aaron is nodding off in slumberly foo-foo land, snoring it up with the pillows and fancy “Z’s” floating away from his head, and 10 minutes after that, I too am dead to the world. Leaky drool attachment, included. I woke up what felt like HOURS later because my head was not intended to bend that way for more than 20 minutes, I’m sure I’ll have a stiff neck tomorrow. Drats.
I woke Aaron up and asked him if he wanted to take our serious party, the one with all the drinking, wild music, dancing, friends and bon fires, up to our room. You know so we could continue in like, but more comfortably.
And like the adults that we are, we DISCUSSED this transition before we made ANY sudden moves. I was thinking it was about 2 in the morning and all I wanted to do was lay back on my pillow and continue the dream I was having, without the onset of neck or back pain, and in my pajamas. Not my jeans.
So we get up, and like thieves we creep through the house, up our stairs and into the kitchen. That’s when we see it, the glaring microwave clock in all it’s radial glory, glowing at us with those green florescent eyes. And then we knew. We knew for the first time, it slapped us in the face, and we believed it.
We’re adults, who have a kid and jobs and eat exhaustion for supper.
It read 8:45 pm.
This is the part when I get really excited to go to Traverse City tomorrow, without the baby. I might get to sleep in, that is a concept I think I remember. I will get to wake up unassisted and I’ll get to take a nap, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY IF I WANT TO. There won’t be a schedule. There won’t be someone else, someone very small, to dictate what I do when. And we’ll be ALONE.
Enter Stage Left: Jodi, dressed in black, doubled over and shrieking in ravenous excitement – “Mwahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *