Saturday, February 6, 2016

A Typical Friday Night

"Can I lay with you?" she asks.

Patting my legs, nine year old Cassidy heavily plops 70 pounds of skin, bones and flowing blond hair on my aging knees covering us with her blanket.

Her frustrated mother is on Cass's phone undoing whatever it is the child has done to it.

Needing assurance that every little thing's gonna be alright, she lays on top of me to watch our Friday night movie.

Laurel, the 11 year old, has already knocked over my full glass of red wine, on the rug in front of the television, throwing some rags on it I could use to clean up the mess.

It's my fault, of course, for having wine with the movie.

Because it was an accident ... her code word for "I assume no responsibility for whatever it is I've done" ... Laurel immediately pretends to fall asleep on the sofa so she doesn't have to help me clean up the wine spill.

Maddie, the clueless 14 year old who knows everything,  is in her room downstairs.

One day soon, Sarah and I plan to send an excavation team to look for her ... once we can afford it.

"What I love about you," a broker buying my lunch in a Longhorn's Steakhouse said once upon a time, "is how you keep re-inventing yourself."

Boy have I!

Sarah meanders back to her spot on the sofa beside Winston, the Little Gay dog, assuring Cass everything is fixed and ordering her to never do it again.

I'm no longer necessary so the 9 year old snuggles with her Mom.

Taking pity on me Goddess, the mostly golden retriever, wanders out to take Cass's place.

"I have to get more wine tomorrow," I tell myself.

"You haven't rubbed my feet since Monday," Sarah says.

I love rubbing my wife's feet with lotion at night as we mindlessly watch whatever we watch so I throw Goddess off to grab the lotion and pour love between her toes.

"Do mine," Cass demands.

"Hell No!" I reply.

It's time for your Mom.

It's a typical Friday night at our house.

I love what I've become ... and am becoming ... looking forward to the girls going to College ... but already missing like Hell when they're gone.