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Too
Thrilling
by Elizabeth Bussey Sowdal |
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Darlings,
I really couldn’t be more thrilled! Jetting off, you know, for New York in just
a couple of weeks for the 2005 edition of Parkerfest, honoring the author, poet
and wit Dorothy Parker. Really, it couldn’t be more divine, though how I shall
get everything here settled first is absolutely beyond me and really, when I think
about it I could absolutely yip!
I have never left my family at
home and gone off on a trip with a kindred spirit, but I am doing it this time.
I begged Mike to come but he said it wasn’t his cup of tea and to go on if I wanted
to and have fun. So I am.
I think it surprised him a little when I went
ahead with my plans rather than demurring and deciding to stay safely at home
with him. He seemed a little surprised anyway. Now he is just ready for me to
go and is sick of me going about striking languid poses and trying to sound like
a 1930's movie star. Really he can be too exasperating! Why just the other day
he said, "Lissen shweethaht, can you put your lips together like this?" he demonstrated.
I thought I knew the next line, but I was wrong. He didn’t want me to whistle.
He just wanted my lips to stay together just like that, just for a while. Really!
He couldn’t have been more unkind! Too infuriating!
I know that my family
will be fine without me and I am not worried about them at all. In fact, I wouldn’t
be too surprised if it actually takes a couple of days for my absence to be felt.
I understand this and expect it and it will not hurt my feelings. They might first
notice that I am gone when they run out of fruit, or maybe bread. When their Dad
shops for groceries he always remembers milk – remembers it so well and so consistently
that we very frequently have two or three gallons in the fridge at a time. With
two growing boys in the house, and lots of others in and out, this is never a
problem and we always use it up before it spoils. But I am the more conscientious
fruit buyer, so that might be when they notice I am gone.
Or they might
notice that I am gone the second or third time they oversleep and are late for
school. Their Dad leaves for work at 6:30 and he always hollers at them when he
leaves. I leave for work at 6:20 and I always try to call them around seven and
make sure that they are up and about. They are usually not. When I am home in
the morning of course I wake them up in plenty of time and make sure they have
a nice wholesome dose of snap, crackle and pop under their belts before they set
out to face the world. Just one of the motherly touches I try to remember, to
make their childhood days as lovely as can be. And when I am off I make it an
absolute point to be awake and out of my jammies when they get home. Really, it
is too hard being a mother, but I don’t think you can do too much for the little
fellows while they are young.
My girls are not sorry that I am going.
They are not home anymore to miss my actual presence, though it is possible they
will miss my phone calls asking what they ate, if they ate, what time they went
to bed, whether they are keeping up with their studies, what nice boys have they
met, are they doing their laundry? All those things I have to ask them so that
they will know that I love them and worry about them. No, they are not bothered
about the thought of me traveling so far from home. They know that there will
be shopping involved and plenty of it and that they will reap the benefit of much
of it. They are pragmatic. They like cashmere and earrings and posters and they
know I know it.
The days are long gone when a trip out of town for several
days might have been seen by my family as a disaster. No, no disaster here. This
may be my first trip away from home without them, but assuming that they survive
the trauma alright, it will not be my last. Darlings. | |
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