Spouse continued that dream with, "I'd stay home and take care of things."
I'll bet he would. He'd stay home to cook, clean, launder, and lunch. At least that might be what he'd call whatever it is he would do all day. We all know he'd spend his hours in front of the computer, chatting with friends, updating his facebook status, and writing on his dumb blog. Prolly eat bon-bons and watch soap operas too. Of all the nerve! I'm already mad at him. Lazy bones Jones!
The next day I walked the boys to school. I walk the boys to school most days. Do they need me there for safety and whatnot? Not exactly. But I need to be there for me. I need to be there to watch their antics, listen to their dialogue, and dodge their imaginary weapons. I need to be there to observe their little legs and arms, their bright eyes and smiles. Each day, those legs, arms, eyes and smiles get bigger. And when they get bigger, they become not as cute. And more annoying. (Kidding. It was getting sappy. Had to dilute the sap with some sarcasm.)
Truth is, the days I get with the Yahoos are limited. Before I know it they'll be gone 'n married to some two-bit hussy. (Kidding again. Getting sappy again and had to dilute the sap with more sarcasm again.) Lately, as I spend time doing much of nothing with my sweet boys, I note the importance of that nothingness, and cherish it fully. That is, until one of them loses their shoes, and I start looking for a suitable two-bit hussy -- don't get me started on my issues with shoes.
After walking the Yahoos to school, I returned home to load up my biking gear. Hillene was coming to get me for one of our rides in the which we spend lots of time going only a few miles. It's mostly because I'm slow, but I'm going to blame it on the fact that we yak a lot. A lot. We call these rides, dates. Usually, they have a date-dance name associated with it. Like our last date ride was named Preference. I even brought her a corsage. I think Sadie Hawkins is up next. After that? Junior Freakin' Prom. Can't wait! I never made it to Junior Freakin' Prom.
Speaking of Hillene, did you know she makes me awesome by awesmosis? It's true. I tell people I mountain bike with Hillene, and they generally get all wild-eyed and submissive because the fact that I bike with Hillene makes me awesome. Truth be told, she outdoes me on twelve different levels, and I cannot keep up. This is the honest truth -- I ain't pulling a humble card on you all. If I were awesome at this biking business, I'd most assuredly brag to you about it just like I brag about my itunes library. (Which is up four tunes today, thank you very much. It also means I'm out almost five bucks, but oh well.)
Anyway, Hillene and I went up a Hollow called Hog, then down a Hollow called Canyon, up a trail called Clarks, then back down the Hollow called Hog. It was a great time. I mean, a really great time. As usual, we started some deep, planet-saving conversation, one that cannot be facilitated in the perpetual motion of bicycling and must be kindled face to face. During one of our frequent yak-stops, I brought up the "what if I was offered $450,000 to go back to work full-time" scenario. (Hillene and I play what-if too.) Hillene chimed in with a, "If you went back to work, we couldn't have these dates."
It's true. Some of my days are worth at least $100,000 each. That date with Hillene especially.
See? I tole you I got her a corsage.