Empty Nest or Cuckoo's Nest?
It was all anyone could say to us all summer. Oooooh. You'll be empty nesters. Like what, we've spent the last 21 years incubating eggs only to watch them hatch and fly away? Wishful thinking people.
It's 2012. Eggs don't hatch and fly away. They roll around for years with a slick coat of oil on them preventing you from getting a firm grip. Then they jump and soar and fly but like boomerangs always return.
Back to the here and now. Young one is 18 and off to college far far away. Following in older one's footsteps, if you are going to leave the nest, go far and wide but latch some sort of financial rope to your parents' ankles so you don't wither and perish.
So here we are, hubby and me, after 25 years of marital bliss, or at least negotiated peace... to fend for ourselves in our humble abode. Turns out he likes to talk and sing alot. No really. A LOT. I feel like I've entered sitcom land. He's gone from quiet, meek, obedient husband to some sort of mutation the likes of which Bill Nye has never seen. Apparently he's just graduated from the Archie Bunker school of TV Commentating. So from the minute the remote goes in his hand, he is king of his castle and master of virtual reality. He provides a running commentary on everything that appears in the magic box. From bleach commercials to real housewives of gatorville he is a non-stop source of information and opinions.
I am beginning to have recurring nightmares. I come down from my office upstairs to find hubby, and all the other neighborhood nester-men having a Honey Boo Boo marathon party. A trash can filled with pre-chilled Ensure and a bowl of unsalted, unseasoned chex-mix the only refreshments.
We haven't even entered retirement world yet. What will happen then? When he's home all day? We'll never know because he won't be retiring. Sure I realize that as a tennis pro there may come a day when he physically may not be as spry. But by then technology will have created the virtual training system. He'll teach from the sidelines using a racket affixed to a rope and he'll swing from the bench. Or maybe he'll simply go to the park everyday like Arte Johnson in Laugh-in.
It would be nice to get out. Travel maybe. A good concert. Weekend on the coast. But with 2 kids in college about the furthest we'll get is dinner and a show at the Golden Corral. But why throw good money after bad. With the emergence of hubby's new personality enhancements, I can get that right here at home.
It's 2012. Eggs don't hatch and fly away. They roll around for years with a slick coat of oil on them preventing you from getting a firm grip. Then they jump and soar and fly but like boomerangs always return.
Back to the here and now. Young one is 18 and off to college far far away. Following in older one's footsteps, if you are going to leave the nest, go far and wide but latch some sort of financial rope to your parents' ankles so you don't wither and perish.
So here we are, hubby and me, after 25 years of marital bliss, or at least negotiated peace... to fend for ourselves in our humble abode. Turns out he likes to talk and sing alot. No really. A LOT. I feel like I've entered sitcom land. He's gone from quiet, meek, obedient husband to some sort of mutation the likes of which Bill Nye has never seen. Apparently he's just graduated from the Archie Bunker school of TV Commentating. So from the minute the remote goes in his hand, he is king of his castle and master of virtual reality. He provides a running commentary on everything that appears in the magic box. From bleach commercials to real housewives of gatorville he is a non-stop source of information and opinions.
I am beginning to have recurring nightmares. I come down from my office upstairs to find hubby, and all the other neighborhood nester-men having a Honey Boo Boo marathon party. A trash can filled with pre-chilled Ensure and a bowl of unsalted, unseasoned chex-mix the only refreshments.
We haven't even entered retirement world yet. What will happen then? When he's home all day? We'll never know because he won't be retiring. Sure I realize that as a tennis pro there may come a day when he physically may not be as spry. But by then technology will have created the virtual training system. He'll teach from the sidelines using a racket affixed to a rope and he'll swing from the bench. Or maybe he'll simply go to the park everyday like Arte Johnson in Laugh-in.
It would be nice to get out. Travel maybe. A good concert. Weekend on the coast. But with 2 kids in college about the furthest we'll get is dinner and a show at the Golden Corral. But why throw good money after bad. With the emergence of hubby's new personality enhancements, I can get that right here at home.
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