We just passed the 237th anniversary of our Declaration of Independence, our demand to govern ourselves, to become independent of a government that in no way represented the people; it was in essence a declaration of war. But it was more than that; it was a promise to the populace, at least to those not shackled by slavery, that a new government would be created to serve and represent them.
But that's not the freedom and independence I'm thinking about.
What prompted the title of this piece was the birthday trip I gave to my love, Carol, to visit all her siblings in Alabama. The rare occurrence of having all of them in one place was too good to pass up, so I thought it the perfect gift, and it was. As a result I occupied our home for five days alone save for Zorro and Elvis, our two cats. Since all three of us were male (with certain modifications relating to reproductive functionality,) it became our man cave. What does that really mean?
In the case of Zorro and Elvis, not much, well nothing really. To me it meant: not making the bed, leaving more than one day's dishes in the sink, and the real kicker leaving the toilet seat up. Actually, the one I left up was broken, but I didn't replace it until the morning of the day I was due to pick Carol up at the airport. Anyway, for four nights the boys and I puttered around the house, avoiding most meaningful chores. Well, I puttered, they pretty much slept until their exercise period, which coincides with my normal bedtime. I managed to get some constructive things done, but not many. Instead I wrote, played solitaire, cleaned up a few things in my garage, and painted a shelf.
As I said earlier, I managed to hold off on replacing the toilet seat until the last day. As far as dishes, I ran the dishwasher twice and actually changed the sheets on the schedule Carol always maintains, but I did it because I wanted to. All in all it was an exciting, though brief, taste of freedom from household customs.
Let freedom ring!
But that's not the freedom and independence I'm thinking about.
What prompted the title of this piece was the birthday trip I gave to my love, Carol, to visit all her siblings in Alabama. The rare occurrence of having all of them in one place was too good to pass up, so I thought it the perfect gift, and it was. As a result I occupied our home for five days alone save for Zorro and Elvis, our two cats. Since all three of us were male (with certain modifications relating to reproductive functionality,) it became our man cave. What does that really mean?
In the case of Zorro and Elvis, not much, well nothing really. To me it meant: not making the bed, leaving more than one day's dishes in the sink, and the real kicker leaving the toilet seat up. Actually, the one I left up was broken, but I didn't replace it until the morning of the day I was due to pick Carol up at the airport. Anyway, for four nights the boys and I puttered around the house, avoiding most meaningful chores. Well, I puttered, they pretty much slept until their exercise period, which coincides with my normal bedtime. I managed to get some constructive things done, but not many. Instead I wrote, played solitaire, cleaned up a few things in my garage, and painted a shelf.
As I said earlier, I managed to hold off on replacing the toilet seat until the last day. As far as dishes, I ran the dishwasher twice and actually changed the sheets on the schedule Carol always maintains, but I did it because I wanted to. All in all it was an exciting, though brief, taste of freedom from household customs.
Let freedom ring!
Ah yes: the simple freedom of doing want you want to for a few days. I know that feeling well and look forward to Lee's summer solar car adventures for just that reason.
ReplyDeletei love when i can couch those adventures in quiet rebellion as some sort of a gift or favor for my husband - that's the very definition of win/win, isn't it? a funny thing is that whole 'i'm not doing the dishes until tomorrow' bit is *my rule*. but only when he's home, i guess. great piece, tom.
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