Wednesday, September 28, 2005
This makes me a temporary bachelor.
While I won’t indulge in certain of the traditional bachelor activities I remember, like hitting on women or staring at the wall at 3 a.m. in quiet but intense despair, there are a few indulgences I’m looking forward to:
- “The game is on. Any objections? Hearing none,...”
- Finishing the Sunday morning papers on Sunday morning, like God intended.
- With a grotesquely-oversized mug of coffee, like God intended.
- Spaghetti. The Wife objects to my spaghetti technique. Like many women of my acquaintance, she fails to appreciate the sheer visceral joy of the long noodle-suck. Note to self: wear dark t-shirt.
- Shams? I don’t need no steenking shams...
- Sleeping past 6:30 a.m. on both Saturday AND Sunday. Almost unimaginable glee!
- Uninterrupted, serious reading. God, I miss that.
I’ll miss them, of course, and I’ll be incredibly glad when they get home. But a few days of bachelorhood won’t be so bad. The best part is that I know that, and when, it will end.