Thursday, June 07, 2007

Struggling is Futile

Everyday this week Sergio has dressed in a suit and tie and gone off to work on the 7 AM train. I drop him off and pick him up. Then he goes to class at 5:30. When he gets home at 7:45, I have dinner waiting on him, right down to a freshly made glass of tea. Because he leaves so early in the morning, I have usually had time to pick up the house and even go so far as to make the bed. Make the Bed! Which I never do. Every night I iron a dress shirt for the next day.
At any moment I expect the world to go black and white, the door to open with a "Honey, I'm home," and I will answer with, "How was your day dear?" The tea will change to a stiff drink over time, and I will spend part of my day at the beauty parlor. Our youngest child will be called The Beav.
There is no use fighting it.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hey that sounds like my life, except for the part about the stiff drink, but the tea sure sounds familiar. Its really not so bad, I kinda like it. Now that I work though, he comes home and makes his own tea.

Retha