Mopping in the New Year
I remember when Prince's "1999" album came out in the 80s, the age I would be at the start of the new century seemed so old and so far away. Another in a long line of "If you told me I'd do this someday, I would never have believed it" events that hit since I turned, well, not a spring chicken anymore: I was mopping my kitchen floor when the clock struck midnight on New Year's Eve.
My husband and I took our three youngest (oldest went out with his girlfriend's family, another "no longer a spring chicken" sign) to a party at the fabulous Mura household. But after having 10 little girls for my daughter's birthday slumber party Friday night (they got to sleep at 3), my parents' 50th anniversary luncheon -- very cool, with family coming in who we hadn't seen in awhile -- on Saturday, by Sunday we didn't realize how tired we were.
By 10:30 New Year's Eve, we were droopy, and we left about 11. Shortly after getting home, my husband and our youngest were asleep, my daughters were watching the Hannah Montana New Year's show, or something like that, and I was waiting for them to go to sleep. Not interested in Hannah Montana, I put on Dick Clark in the kitchen. Which is how, at 11:50, I thought to myself, "If I mop the floor tonite, that's one less thing to do tomorrow." When they did the countdown, I looked at the mop and wondered, when did a mop and a bucket of Pine Sol replace noisemakers and a glass of champagne? Sigh.
To Mom and Dad, again, Happy 50th! Of course, they were teens when they married. If my mom's professed age is true, she was a negative number when they tied the knot. Not that they'll see this. At their luncheon, a longtime friend of my folks mentioned my blog to my Dad. Dad's answer: "I've never seen it."
Sigh.
My husband and I took our three youngest (oldest went out with his girlfriend's family, another "no longer a spring chicken" sign) to a party at the fabulous Mura household. But after having 10 little girls for my daughter's birthday slumber party Friday night (they got to sleep at 3), my parents' 50th anniversary luncheon -- very cool, with family coming in who we hadn't seen in awhile -- on Saturday, by Sunday we didn't realize how tired we were.
By 10:30 New Year's Eve, we were droopy, and we left about 11. Shortly after getting home, my husband and our youngest were asleep, my daughters were watching the Hannah Montana New Year's show, or something like that, and I was waiting for them to go to sleep. Not interested in Hannah Montana, I put on Dick Clark in the kitchen. Which is how, at 11:50, I thought to myself, "If I mop the floor tonite, that's one less thing to do tomorrow." When they did the countdown, I looked at the mop and wondered, when did a mop and a bucket of Pine Sol replace noisemakers and a glass of champagne? Sigh.
To Mom and Dad, again, Happy 50th! Of course, they were teens when they married. If my mom's professed age is true, she was a negative number when they tied the knot. Not that they'll see this. At their luncheon, a longtime friend of my folks mentioned my blog to my Dad. Dad's answer: "I've never seen it."
Sigh.
1 Comments:
It's a shame that your father hasn't seen your blog, Clare. He has fans here whether he realizes it or not. Please thank your Dad once again for making Seton Hall the great Catholic university that it is!
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