I have become a second class citizen in my own home. When the hell
did that happen? On any given workday, I get up first to make the
girls' lunches, shower, then dress in the dark so no one is disturbed.
(Actually, most days I wear trouser socks and I am glad no one can see
me socks, sans pants. Trouser socks have got to be one of the most
unsexy items of clothing. They would make a runway model look like a
hag..anyway..) I,then, skulk around the house like a God damned burgler
trying to be as quiet as possible until the rest of the family is up.
Once Laurel and Rachel are up, I do the majority of getting them ready.
In the evening, I eat last regardless if the meal is takeout that Ching
has picked up, or a meal that I have prepared. This happens because
Rachel who is 16 months tends to get fussy at dinnertime. One
of us will take her and the other will eat. After Ching has eaten, I
will eat. While my diatribe sounds like I am becoming a martyr, it
was never my intention. It just happened.
Growing up I would watch my mother eat last, take the chipped plate or
give up the last "anything" because we were one short and that is what
she did. She will still take this role when there is a large family dinner.
The phrase "my fork is in" is commonly used. In my family, you wait
until your hostess is seated with their fork in their meal prior to
starting your own meal. (After 12 years, Ching still needs to be
reminded of this...) But my mom says "my fork is in"
just to get people started regardless is she is actually seated
(never) or grabbing something out of the kitchen (always).
Visions of Alice from the Brady Bunch come to mind. Those road trip
episodes when the whole gang was in the station wagon and poor Alice
was stuck in the back..well, at least I can say I am not sitting in the back...
I absolutely draw the line at that..
No comments:
Post a Comment