Sunday, September 17, 2017

Analysis of the Empty Nest, Weeks One Through Three

Soooo, how's that float trip down the River Denial, Chelle?

Great! Thanks for asking!

Three weeks into this experiment and I am still convinced that the Man-Cub is going to come whistling through the door at any moment.

I also have to remind myself to refrain from filling my cart with Little Debbie snack cakes, Cheese Balls, and Mountain Dew when I am at the Hellmouth.

At least three times a day, I think about what to make for dinner and have to gently inform myself that it doesn't matter if we have Hamburger Helper in the pantry or not because Hugh and I don't eat Hamburger Helper right now, so, why the hell would my mind automatically go to Hamburger Helper? Or, tacos, for that matter.

On the bright side, I have enjoyed the extra few hours that I get on Sundays, hours that I used to spend doing the Cub's laundry, especially this time of year, when his football uniform would require weekly attention.

Well, actually, I washed his football jersey just today, but, that is only because, no matter how many times I drape it artfully across his headboard, Guinness pulls it back onto the middle of the bed and cuddles into it like a baby bird into a nest.



Which, further serves to remind me that, in fact, my nest is empty.

I guess the cat is as much in denial as I am.

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