A McDonald's Moment -- A Holiday Thought

It's less than a week until Halloween.  We can now postpone life until "After the Holidays."

McDonald's Moment -- A Holiday Thought

It's less than a week until Halloween.  We can now postpone life until "After the Holidays."

A McDonald's Moment -- Ed on Autumn

On Saturday, I got out everyone’s winter clothes and put the summer ones in garbage bags until I could decide what to do with them.  We had just had the first prediction of frost and the college radio station was playing wistful Autumn songs.  Ed says they're annoying and if he wanted to be depressed, he'd watch TV ads for animal shelters .  I tell him not to be such a curmudgeon;  the point of the songs is to get pleasantly bummed out. 

The Unfortunate Consequences of Synchronization and Chess

I never thought I'd be one of those mothers who lived through her children, but I guess I am. I was never any good at sports, although I always wanted to be. (I didn't want to play the sports; I just wanted to be good at them.) But my parents wanted me to experience competition and have something to put on my college applications, so I took karate, which I did like. I also took swimming lessons and in high school I was in the synchronized swimming group. I liked that too; I didn't know it was nerdy until the kids saw my yearbook and pointed it out. But it did look good on the applications, since it showed that I knew how to be part of a team.

So I was surprised last night at dinner when Cilla said that she didn't want to do soccer any more. She said it was stupid and wanted to know what difference it made who won. I didn't know what to say, since I felt the same way. Ed pointed out that she got exercise, she got to be with other kids, and she got to learn how to work with others.

Cilla pointed out that she got lots of exercise at dance class and that she saw other kids all the time. Or as she put it, other kids were “Coming in the windows.” She also wondered why it was good to know how to work with others just so you all could win a stupid game, which didn't make any difference to anything.

What surprised me wasn't that Cilla didn't want to do soccer, but that I wanted her to. The athletes are considered cool in high school, and if you're going to be any good, you have to start in grade school, or even pre-K. I was not cool; I was in the nerd crowd. We spent our time trying to get good grades, doing things to put on our college applications (like Chess Club and orchestra) and reading. I pointed out that if she quit she was ruining her chances and if in a few years she changed her mind it would be too late. I reminded her of the synchronized swimming picture in my yearbook and asked her if she wanted to end up like me.

“Really, Charlie, is your life that terrible?” Ed was starting to get huffy,

“Oh, not now. But it was in high school.” I thought of my friends' and my telling ourselves we were Intellectual and deep down wishing we were Cool.

Josh assumed his Father Josh personna. “Now, Cilla, you're breaking Mommy's heart. You don't want to do that do you?”

Betsey would have said I could just suck it up, although in a more polite way, and maybe throw in that I didn't care if she was miserable.

But fortunately for me, Cilla didn't want to break my heart and she started crying. Then she got up and flung herself at me. “Oh, Mother, I am sorry that you were a nerd.” and cried some more, just like a Bette Davis movie.

Over Cilla's head I saw Betsey mouth “drama queen” to Josh. Ed just looked like a dad; concerned, but having no idea what to do. Finally, he had an idea. “Now, Cilla, we've paid for this semester and bought your new uniform and it would be shame to waste all that money. I'll call and find out if we can get it back, but if we can't you'll have to do the fall season. If we can get it back you can quit.”

We weren't able to get the money back, so Cilla is still going to soccer. That's the good news (at least I think so). The bad news is that after every game she points out how stupid the whole thing is. Actually, I think she has a point.

Identifying as Exhausted -- From Charlie's Diary

Well, Michele is back home, supposedly nursing her broken heart and trying to patch things up with Wendy, who now wonders if Michele wasn't the innocent victim of all those women who were after her.

Emily is taking a break from looking for love because she's exhausted from it. She's thinking about joining the choir at Epiphany, since she'll be available every Sunday morning.

Alice will be starting a new job, but it's at a college just a few miles from here and she's keeping her apartment. We're going to miss her, but maybe it's the best thing for her and Emily. We had lunch, but it wasn't to get closure because nothing is closing. I asked her if she was going to be gay or straight at the new school, and she said she wasn't going to be anything unless someone came right out and asked her. Then she might say, “Whatever” or “You tell me and then we'll both know.”

I asked her what she identified as, and she said she was too busy and too tired to identify with anything. I wonder how many people are going to take her to lunch to find out.

School is starting soon and we have to go shopping. Soccer practice has already begun, and I am co-chair of the Fall Festival at church.  Not to mention the election, which I try not to do in order to keep my sanity.

Karen and Nikki and I are planning to get really drunk this Friday

A McDonalds Memory -- It's that time again!

So now it's time for Back to School, the unofficial holiday between the Fourth of July and Halloween. There are paper leaves and cardboard school bells and apples all over the stores and back to school ads on TV, with kids dancing and singing as if new clothes and backpacks made up for losing their freedom.  They do help, of course.

I got Ed to take care of Josh; I knew he would get everything done quickly and efficiently.  So we went in separate cars, a jolly caravan of consumers.

Shopping with two girls is one of those experiences that “challenge you to grow,” as my mother used to say when I complained about having to do something.  I tell the children to “offer it up.”  And I was given a lot to offer.

Cilla and her friends have decided that “if it isn’t pink, they’re not wearing it.”  And on the first day, everything had to be totally pink.  After that they would condescend to wear contrasting pants or skirts.

Betsey told me I was “spoiling her” and looked superior until I reminded her of the year she and her friends wore purple all day every day; even their pajamas had to be purple.

I shouldn’t have said anything because Cilla decided that she needed pink pajamas and wanted to call her friends right now, please, please, please so they could get some too.

I told her we would get the pajamas now, but she’d have to wait until we got home to call her friends.

Betsey was a little easier, since she doesn’t have a bust or interest in boys yet.  She needed five pairs of jeans, a variety of tops, some with sayings I didn’t understand, but which she assured me weren’t naughty, and some sweaters for me to nag her to take with her, even if she didn’t wear them, because it could get chilly.

All around us mothers were squabbling with daughters and exchanging eye rolls.  It was nice to have a sisterhood moment.

The girls wanted to stop at McDonald’s to celebrate their haul, but I told them that it wouldn’t be fair to Daddy and Josh, but we’d have pizza tonight.

On the way out of the mall, we stopped at the bulk candy store for the first candy corn and pumpkins of the season.

I said a prayer of thanksgiving that the girls didn’t see the McDonald’s wrappers in the trash when we got home.  Fortunately, Josh forgot to wave his Happy Meal monster in their faces.

Sometimes you get a break.

Back on the Horses! And a Recipe!

We're kind of worried about Emily. We don’t think that she’s still hanging out with Alice because she is hoping to change her mind; Emily once told me that trying to convince someone to switch sexual preference is like trying to get them to like broccoli instead of candy.

The problem is that Emily doesn’t want to get back on the horse. No offense to Alice, but if Emily wants to have a relationship, any time she spends with her, she could use to be out looking for someone else.

I just hope Ed doesn’t die before I do. I really don’t want to have get on another horse.

I asked Ed if he would get married again if I died.

“Certainly not.”

“But you’d need someone to take care of you. And the kids.”

“They have three grandmothers.”

“If I died, the women would be bringing casseroles over before you could say knife. All those single mothers.”

“Oh, you think so?” Ed looked kind of pleased.

I just hope no one brings tuna, green bean and mushroom soup casserole. The kids love it, but Ed only likes the potato chips.

“Of course. But the kids would give anyone a hard time. I appreciate their loyalty, but I don’t want them to be rude. Your girlfriends would think I hadn’t raised them right.”

“Charlie. You’re not going to sit the kids down and give them a talk on being polite to my dates.”

“Of course not. When the time comes, you can do it. Or I can get them to promise me when I’m on my deathbed.” If I have to go, I hope I get the chance. I could just see their little faces, or even middle-aged faces. At the funeral, they’d tell everyone how noble I’d been.

I really don’t think I’d get married or even date if Ed went first. It’s too much trouble.

“Can we go to sleep now? This whole conversation is creeping me out.”

I wanted to ask him why, but I didn’t have the nerve. I like to think he couldn’t bear to imagine life without me. Not to mention being a single dad. 

Single Dad Get Acquainted Casserole

Ingredients

• 12 ounces medium egg noodles, cooked and drained
• 2 cups cooked green peas or 1 can of green beans
• 2 cans condensed cream of mushroom soup
• 1/2 cup milk
• 1 1/2 cups sharp Cheddar cheese
• 2 cans (approx. 6 ounces each) tuna, drained and flaked
• salt and pepper, to taste
• 1/2 to 1 cup crushed potato chips
• 1 tablespoon melted butter

• Prep Time: 20 minutes
• Cook Time: 20 minutes
• Total Time: 40 minutes
• Yield: 6 Servings

Preparation

• Heat oven to 350°. Grease a 2 1/2 to 3-quart casserole dish.
• Combine the noodles, peas, soup, milk, cheese, and tuna. Add salt and pepper, to taste. Spoon into the prepared baking dish.
•  Crush potato chips and sprinkle over the top.
• Bake for 15 to 20 minutes, until hot and bubbly. p

Serves 6.

From About Food

http://southernfood.about.com/od/tunacasserolerecipes/r/r90110b.htm