So I've been back at work for 3 whole days now. I have taught my classes, answered some email correspondence, attended a faculty meeting, and started correcting 3rd drafts of senior project papers while the laundry has slowly begun to stack up and errant balls of "Rust bunnies" collect under the furniture threatening to mutate into more dogs. Today I dropped T off at home after band practice (which ran late) while simultaneously picking C up to take him to play at a UH basketball game, fought traffic coming and going from UH in the pouring rain and ended up picking up Popeye's Chicken for dinner.
At 6:45, I was silently lamenting the loss of the time that allowed me to leisurely grocery shop, plan and cook homemade meals for my family and even help the boys keep up with their laundry. E wasn't home yet and T was perfectly content to sit in the quiet happily munching on take-out fried chicken with all the fixings, blissfully oblivious to the time demands that were forcing, forcing him to eat this food prepared by hands other than his mother's!
At 7:15, as T lugged a full laundry basket of his clothes down to the garage, his thoughts finally paralleled mine. Dreamy eyes came into focus as he gazed wistfully from his full basket to me: "It used to be nice when you were being a housewife."
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