Just another Friday night
Why are there so many songs about SATURDAY night, and yet I can't think of any about Friday?
Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting
Just Another Saturday Night and I Ain't Got Nobody
Saturday in the Park
One More Saturday Night
Let me tell you about Fridays at the Hadaway House. Friday's are officially christened "Fend For Yourself Friday" and mama don't do no cooking on Friday nights. The kids can place an order by Friday morning - Fred Meyer or Papa Murphy's - but if I don't have it by closing time, they're out of luck. Aileen typically goes for mac n cheese, or maybe a cheese pizza. Jed is a gluten free pepperoni pizza (and he celebrates not having to eat his veggies with a little bootie dance). Bob is a Marie Calendar's Chicken Pot Pie, large size (unless I stop at Papa Murphy's). Mama's the wild card. Maybe an avocado w/ tuna salad, maybe artichoke dip and triscuits, maybe cheese fries.... with an adult beverage. On Friday nights, I get home, shout at the kids to "come and get it," head upstairs to change into my pajamas, and then pour a cold one. Is that bad to admit? It's not like I'm an alcoholic, and it's not even the alcohol really, it's the ritual of switching from work mode, to weekend mode.
I tend to like my routines. I eat the same breakfasts, and often take the same lunch every day. I used to take my watch off immediately after turning in my checkout form at school in the spring, and put it on when I pulled up in the parking lot on the first day of school. I also like symbolic gestures - maybe its the English teacher in me. So my Friday night ritual is the equivalent of a big sigh and a happy face emoticon... means that I can power down for a bit.
So tonight, I blog as I wait for the Cotton Bowl to end. Kids are fed, and fending for themselves. Husband is in the kitchen, fending for himself. I'm in my polar bear jammies, enjoying a cocktail and feeling happy. AND I remembered a Friday song. Let's hear it for The Cure.
Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting
Just Another Saturday Night and I Ain't Got Nobody
Saturday in the Park
One More Saturday Night
Let me tell you about Fridays at the Hadaway House. Friday's are officially christened "Fend For Yourself Friday" and mama don't do no cooking on Friday nights. The kids can place an order by Friday morning - Fred Meyer or Papa Murphy's - but if I don't have it by closing time, they're out of luck. Aileen typically goes for mac n cheese, or maybe a cheese pizza. Jed is a gluten free pepperoni pizza (and he celebrates not having to eat his veggies with a little bootie dance). Bob is a Marie Calendar's Chicken Pot Pie, large size (unless I stop at Papa Murphy's). Mama's the wild card. Maybe an avocado w/ tuna salad, maybe artichoke dip and triscuits, maybe cheese fries.... with an adult beverage. On Friday nights, I get home, shout at the kids to "come and get it," head upstairs to change into my pajamas, and then pour a cold one. Is that bad to admit? It's not like I'm an alcoholic, and it's not even the alcohol really, it's the ritual of switching from work mode, to weekend mode.
I tend to like my routines. I eat the same breakfasts, and often take the same lunch every day. I used to take my watch off immediately after turning in my checkout form at school in the spring, and put it on when I pulled up in the parking lot on the first day of school. I also like symbolic gestures - maybe its the English teacher in me. So my Friday night ritual is the equivalent of a big sigh and a happy face emoticon... means that I can power down for a bit.
So tonight, I blog as I wait for the Cotton Bowl to end. Kids are fed, and fending for themselves. Husband is in the kitchen, fending for himself. I'm in my polar bear jammies, enjoying a cocktail and feeling happy. AND I remembered a Friday song. Let's hear it for The Cure.
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