My son is playing with one of his best friends this afternoon. The girls are in the backyard, swinging while the wind whips their hair into demonic tangles that will give us all crappy attitudes before church tomorrow morning as we try to exorcise them. My girlfriend is sloshed to the gills with coupons and buying groceries at four different stores. The beagle is asleep in the chair across the room. We caught him eating his poop this morning; kinda puts a damper on those dog-lickin'-your-face moments. Frank Sinatra is crooning on the stereo Let's forget about tomorrow, for tomorrow never comes. A couple of my type-A neighbors are out doing various kinds of yard work. And the interstate, which I can see from where I sit, is moving along smoothly in north and south directions.
We'll grill some hamburgers close to 5pm and then sit at the round table where all seats are equal. A brief "thank-you" prayer will no doubt be lifted on the Colorado wind because we really are thankful for all things. The girls will say "no buns for me" and they'll eat hamburger patties with their fingers like feral children discovered in the forest somewhere. My son, back home by hamburger time, will eat at least two and request a root beer to wash 'em down. It's Saturday night and we're hip parents, so we'll say, "Sure. Pop a top, old boy." The beagle will circle our table round like some vulture, waiting for the humans to leave the scene of the dine or banking on the fact that the old man is a sucker for begging dog eyes coupled with poopy breath.
It'll be showers and baths for everyone following dinner. The dirty clothes baskets that were just this morning all emptied and taken care of will suddenly be filled to the brim with jeans and t-shirts and socks and fundawear. Laundry. Like Sisyphus pushin' that rock up that hill. I seem to recall one of the Harry Potter movies being on tonight on one of those three channels that people who don't have cable can get via rabbit ears. That's us. So, we'll get our pjs on and apply detangler to girl-hair and dry and style while watching Hogwarts and co. One of the items on my girlfriend's grocery list with a corresponding coupon was ice cream, so there's a possibility that a bowl before bedtime may be negotiated. The old man's a sucker for stuff like that, adhering to Sinatraology: Let's forget about tomorrow, for tomorrow never comes.
We'll tuck 'em in about 8:30pm and then field incredibly philosophical questions that seem to arise each evening at tuckin'-in time. Everyone will need a drink of water. Then everyone will have to pee, one last time. If the moon's just right, they might be asleep by 9:15pm. Maybe. My girlfriend and I plan to watch a movie on the dvd: Dan In Real Life. Hopefully, we'll be able to stay awake long enough to finish it. If not, maybe we can finish it tomorrow. If tomorrow comes.