While many folks around the nation are getting together to celebrate our freedom with food, fun and fireworks, I spent the day doing what I do best: nothing exciting.
It was a day like any other day, with the exception that our nation is another year older. As it so happens, I was born in the year of the Bicentennial, so now that America is 233 years old, I’m sadly reminded that in a few short months I’ll turn 33.
Words are unable to express how deeply saddened I am by this news.
With no holiday plans on tap, I started this Saturday in my favorite way: receiving a hearty beating at the gym.
I missed the past two weeks due to Craig’s work schedule and that sick kid of mine, so this morning’s beating was extra painful. I can skip this class once without repercussions, but missing two weeks in a row proves to be extremely uncomfortable upon return.
The rest of the day revolved around this:
and figuring out this
Isn’t the ipod shuffle cute?
Craig got the newer shuffle version because the only color in the original version the store had in stock was pink. You might not know this, but Craig isn’t what you would consider an extremo machismo macho man; He eats Luna bars and has on occasion taken my women’s vitamins. He even allowed Caroline to paint his toenails last week when I was on the great antibiotic hunt of 2009. He’s a good natured guy and despite his willingness to, as he puts it, “get in touch with his feminine side,” I’m fairly certain that he would draw the line at owning and operating a pink ipod. After all, every man deserves at least a smidgen of self respect, right?
Thankfully Craig was around, sparkly painted toes and all, to help me figure out the ipod. He converted our music and helped me when I made an oopsie. On top of that, he took Caroline and her friends to the pool so I could stay home to vacuum, read, and take a smallish snooze in my favorite reading chair. Like I said, I took a pretty brutal beating this morning. My batteries were in dire need of a recharge.
We had initially planned to take in the fireworks show on Ft. Belvoir, just as we did last year. Normally Caroline is stoked all year long for the fireworks display. Seriously. Two years ago she talked non stop about the next year’s event mere seconds after the current year’s fireworks ended. This year, she said she’d rather stay home and light sparklers with her friends, Sarah and Rachel. On one hand, this is somewhat of a relief because parking spaces are few and far between near the fireworks site and the traffic coming home would be unpleasant. However this is the first time Caroline has willingly given up doing something she looks forward to all year long just so she could spend time with her friends.
Friends she sees everyday.
Like I said, I’m partly relieved, but I’m also suspicious that this is the start of a new phase in her life. You know, the “friends are more exciting than mom and dad phase.”
On the bright side, I’m not being eaten up by mosquitos right now. I am, without a doubt, a mosquito magnet.
Must be because I’m so sweet!
Those annoying pests bypass Craig and Caroline and come straight to me. Everytime, without fail.
The day may have been celebration free, but I did keep busy.
I made turkey burgers with pepper jack cheese and turkey bacon and roasted potatoes for dinner. And a pickle, because every meal needs a vegetable!
And we can’t forget the sweet tea. My pitcher was occupied at the time and I only wanted to make a small batch of tea, which explains the oh so classy pyrex measuring cup.
After dinner I cleaned the kitchen because, hello, have me met? I’m Alison and I’m a neurotic neat freak.
My deepest hope is that everyone else had a more interesting holiday than us.
It’s late and Caroline is out with the neighbors lighting sparklers. I should go check to make sure she didn’t burn a neighbor’s house down.
Or lose a finger.
Or light her hair on fire.
She is, after all, her mother’s daughter.