Lessons of Modern Family Life

You know when your husband of 14 years leans over and whispers, honey I am not wearing any underwear, that he is actually just asking you to do his laundry.

You know when summer heat peaks and little ants creep into your house and he asks you to just make friends with them, he is not honoring his new found Buddhist tendencies, he is being budget conscious.

You know When your hubby takes his boy into the backyard with a shovel after finding the cat in the dryer, it is not to spare the girls in the house, it is more a first rite of passage into manhood learning to bury your dead.

When you compare yourselves to others, it’s as absurd as lining all of your middle-aged friends up naked and counting moles.

When you find comfort in that you have a three digit number of Facebook friends it is not because your friends have moved it’s because you found cleaning the cat box and walking the dog less work than introducing yourself to the neighbors.

When a garage sale seems like a fun way to spend a weekend, your social calendar needs nourishing and you need to shop less

When you embrace the back of the recipe on the package as good enough, this is called maturity, not laziness.

When it no longer bothers you you have no where to wear that fancy dress in your closet and start wearing it when you vacuum, that is also maturity.

When breakfast is deduced to tofu in place of eggs, Quinoa instead of hash browns, flaxseed oil instead of butter and chicory root in your cup rather than French Roast, you have most likely paired this with staying off the road on New Years Eve, doing light stretches instead push-ups, swimming instead of lifting weights, and replacing the whiskey on summer campouts with organic Lemonade.

When you have resigned to being happy on your couch with a good book instead of going to that cocktail party at your co-workers house-you are not boring anymore, just content. Besides, you wear that dress when you vacuum anyway.



One thought on “Lessons of Modern Family Life

  1. I remember one time you wrote about little children, talking about “around the time we made the transition from pb and j to tuna salad,” perhaps it seemed more sophisticated, and this is sounding like the middle aged version of that. “Please honey, can’t we go and just *watch* them dance?” rather than actually dance.

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