by Richard
Just last week I got a preview of what it’s going to be like in another seven years. For those of you who don’t know, don’t care (then why are you reading this?) or don’t do math, seven years from now there will be no more little dudes in the house. They all will have either enrolled in and subsequently graduated or dropped out of college or be (in Speed Racer’s case) just enrolled in college. Any way it happens, they all will be gone from the house.
Even if I have to push them out into the street. Which, you know, might be more than likely in a couple of cases.
It’ll be only the dog, any still living cats, me and the wife, known in this birthday week as She Who Must Be Nigh Perfect, sharing space under this roof.
The two talking beings still inhabiting the house will have to come up with more stuff to talk about than just what happened with the little dudes that day. Either that or become one of those couples who speak maybe 23 words to each other during the course of 24 hours. I know I’m much too young to settle into that routine. I hope.
Anyway.
Last week, George of the Jungle was at a friend’s house, Zippy the Monkey Boy was at basketball practice, and Speed Racer was also out at a friend’s house. I was alone in the house and never even realized it. Well, until about an hour into it.
I’d been sitting on the computer (metaphorically speaking. I mean, come on. How good would the writing be if I did it while sitting on the computer? You know what? Don’t answer that.) and writing when I realized something. I was getting a heck of a lot of work done. I hadn’t been interrupted once. Not to referee an argument. Not to help with homework. Not to yell at someone not going homework. Not to smack anyone’s hand with a very large wooden spoon, bought for just such an occasion, for attempting to eat a big snack before dinner. Nothing.
It was such a strange feeling. I don’t think I’ve had a sustained hour-long work session with the sun out in a long time. My train of thought hadn’t been derailed. I started getting a little nervous, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Which, of course, it did. Because as soon as I realized how lucky I was getting and what it meant for the future, the dog started barking like a fiend and doing the pee-pee dance at the front door. When that was over, it was time to start picking up little dudes from various places. Fun time over. Tranquility Base deserted.
Still, it was an interesting preview. I think the whole empty next thing is going to take a lot of getting used to. I’m willing to give it a try, though.
Tags: A Dude's Guide to Kids, A Dude's Guide to Life, argument, Basketball, Basketball Practice, cats, college, Couples, dude, Dude's, Free Bird, friend, George Of The Jungle, Heck, homework, house, little dude, little dudes, Long Time, math, men, Metaphor, Monkey Boy, reading, Referee, richard, Seven Years, Snack, Speed Racer, Strange Feeling, Sun, Train, wife, Wooden Spoon, Work Session, writing, Zippy The Monkey
What a unique point of view. Can I send a tweet out to my followers about this?
Of course. Enjoy.