Home Alone

Kevin McCallister. That was me. Not in the defending Casa Tinsley from hooligans sense. As in the Home Alone, by my lonesome sense.

We had the tile floors in our den and kitchen redone (they look great for those playing along at home.) This required the Team (sans me) to split on down to Houston Town to visit with Granny and Pops. Thus, it was just me and Suki (the Cat) for three nights.

Three nights probably don't seem all that long to you. But dig this. I've only been alone in the house twice since Ethan was born. January 17, 2002. Two nights. One of which was the night of the day he was born. The other was in May 2003 when we had some painting done and the fumes stunk up the joint. Carter was knocked up with the Little Warrior then. That's how far in the rearview we're talking.

As you can imagine, I was somewhat excited about the prospect of being Home Alone after such a long time. Imagine...watching whatever I wanted to watch on TV (without having to get up at 5am to do so.) Not having to do bath duty for a few days. Night Night rituals. Just me (and the Cat.) Sounded down right appealing...or so I thought.

Wrong.

I realize now why they say that older Men die soon after they lose their spouse, whereas a women who loses her man can keep on going. Left to my own devices I ate three meals in three days (sadder yet, it was the same thing from the same place each of the three days.) I worked 12 hour days. Came home, drank a beer or two, slept, did it again. Probably the most exciting thing I did was forgo our bed and sleep on the sofa each night.

People, I learned that the grass is most certainly NOT greener on the other side. For me at least. I also relearned a valuable lesson. That my family, that the Team, is quite simply my life. My everything. Sure, it is crazy at times. Stressful too. I need to always remember to embrace that, because without it, I'm sleeping on the sofa with an overweight Cat and quickly becoming Rice Cafe's number one customer.

Until I BLOG again...