Thursday is my husband's golf or bowling night, depending on the season, with his friends. That leaves me home alone with the glorious opportunity to do whatever I want.
Now, I realize that makes me sound as though I am an oppressed little woman whose other evenings are dictated by her man. Not so. In fact, very much not so. For one thing, I'm not at all little, but more to the point, neither one of us hovers over or makes many time demands of the other. He does most of the cooking (in self-defense -- we'd starve on my cooking ability) and I do most of the cleaning up (likewise in self-defense -- he's the messiest cook ever) so mostly what's for dinner is up to him and that's fine with me.
But when I head home from the office on Thursday evenings I look forward to dinner for one, of whatever I want, with no compromises to make to someone else's tastes or desires. Sometimes it's a giant bowl of popcorn or Cheerios. Sometime it's fried eggs (over easy). Sometimes it's a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Tonight it was a particularly strange combination of carrot sticks, Triscuits and spinach dip left over from last weekend's guests, and fresh baked honey biscuits with dried cranberries mixed in.
Life requires so many compromises. Where to set the thermostat, what color to paint the wall, what to do with the tax refund, what movie to see (or not). All of that necessary to get along peaceably with others, which is a pretty big thing with me.
But sometimes it's nice to just put my feet up, find an episode of Law & Order on a cable channel somewhere, and enjoy the spinach dip and honey biscuits.
Big crew/little crew
8 hours ago