I love Friday nights, when the entire weekend is way out in front of me like a beach I’ve yet to explore.  I’m usually game for when a spontaneous plan is thrown together last minute, especially if it includes my favorite people.  But sometimes people are busy or they’re away, or they’re tired from the week and want to hunker down at home.  In fact, I’m often in that final category, to tell the truth (And as an aside, did any of you realize the 40’s were going to make you so TIRED? I’m disappointed about this.  Can I rally?  Yes.  Do I want to?  Not so much.)

This week on Friday (UPDATE: 2 weeks ago now) during study time where I teach school, I lamented to my students that I didn’t feel like making dinner.  I’d made elaborate meals all week long, and just didn’t feel like it. One suggested I grab pizza from Megunticook Market on my way home – and so I did that.  I chose a pale ale, too, an Irish one called “Survivor”.  When I got home it was only 4:30 so I caught up on my email, read comments on an essay in my manuscript that my cohort Laurie took the time to edit for me (THANK YOU LAURIE,) got on the treadmill for 30 minutes, and opened the beer.  Couldn’t have planned it better.

And then Garrett came home: boisterous, loud, goofy, and ready for some fun.


He has one of those silly apps on his phone that distorts images, or switches pieces of images, as in the one above – and he started snapping pics of us.  I was laughing so hard I couldn’t talk or breathe. I might have peed my pants a little.

Of course, he was on his way out.  He’s often with friends (kids I love) now on weekends, and I have no problem with that.  But he was mine for fifteen minutes, and in that time, we had ourselves a good laugh.  That’s my favorite kind of day.