Who hasn’t thought this? In those moments we’re out of gas, out of time or out of toilet paper (or all three). At times when we follow our favorite adorable pro golfer just to see she has three names now, just like those old-school 80s Olympic sprinters.
I like being me, though.
So much so that I would hate to not be me, to miss out on late-night ginger snaps and Sunlounger and Cher Lloyd on Pandora. On coaching my girls, raising my kids or writing my blog. Did I mention ginger snaps?
You won’t believe me, given the playtime the Gastronomic Trinity – cheeseburgers, pizza, and tacos – gets here. But I’ve eaten Indian food for the first time recently, thanks to my millennial/liberal friends. Took a break from the burger joint and everything.
(They can keep their sushi, though, actually.)
I love some Pad Thai, also. I hadn’t had it in my first 43 years on earth. Sometimes, the sense of adventure in food comes without me knowing it. I accidentally ate alligator once. I ordered fish on a stick in a rural north Florida town.
I mean, in the age of the iPod, iPad, and “I-don’t-really-have-to-make-my-bed,-do-I?” Are chores a thing of the past? My kids don’t have one of those nifty middle-class-America-family charts on the fridge, to outline which duties each kid is to perform.
Mackenzie clears the table, Cooper takes out the trash, Octavio makes the tortillas.
They can sign up on their own for household tasks – loading/unloading dishwasher, cleaning the cat’s room, folding laundry. But it’s a volunteer program, not prison labor like I envision it when I hear the word chore.