Decades in a Day

Matron to John.  It is 10 pm.   The woman of the house is spent, facing details yet for the day to come.  Plus she wants to watch Downton Abbey and eat cookies.   Which can't wait.

Matron:  "Where DID the day go?!!   I can't even remember a single thing that happened!"

John, long pause.

"Remember?  You got up at 5:20.   Fed the dogs, let them out, started coffee and then breakfast for Stryker.  Fed the teenager boy and attended to his angst about upcoming ACT and finals.    Before 6:30 am.  Woke up the household, called two schools to report Scarlett's absence because of orthodontist and Merrick because of strep throat.  Then you vacuumed the house and made breakfast for both younger kids.  Got Merrick settled as he recovered from strep, Scarlett off to rehearsal.   Next?  Two prescriptions to refill, one vet appointment to make.   Two loads of laundry.  Now it's 9:30 a.m.   Library books returned.  You finish two syllabi which you've been working on all morning in between domestic duties and send them for copying.  Settle in Merrick and go to a four hour work meeting.  In the meantime, I agonize with Scarlett at the orthodontist as she gets braces -Invisalign, worse than normal -- and drive her to a rehearsal whle she weeps and rails.   I rush home to make lunch for Merrick and walk dogs.   Return to theater for Scarlett.  You continue on at work meeting.    Then I more or less successfully send work email until l- whoops, time to pick up Scarlett from rehearsal.  Do that.   Get home.  Merrick's fever has spiked.  I give him Tylenol and start my work taxes.  Leave to get Stryker from Debate and then bring him to work.

Then you call and you have a schedule change for Spring Semester while in the midst of your meeting.   deal with hysteria.   Redo family calendars.  Okay.

Mail comes.  You've ordered Brady Brunch from Day One through Eternity as love note to Merrick-With-Strep.  I spend much time reframing 1970s culture for Merrick.

Boc jumps the fence.   I spend twenty minutes chasing him and ten minutes calming you down via text.   My biggest client asks if I can meet with him tomorrow morning at 8 am.  I say yes and spend 20 minutes re-organizing domestic schedule.

You come home from work for an hour before going to yoga.   While home, you put in a load of laundry, answer email, check Merrick's temperature, update the family calendar, start dinner you can't eat because of yoga, check phone messages, wash the dog slime off front door, return orthodontist call, give Scarlett Advil for dentist pain, return call to my mother, put out tomorrow's garbage and I am felled.  That was a 40 minute flurry. Plsu you dusted the entire second floor while arranging a play date for Merrick on Friday.

Then you leave for a 90 minute 'relaxing' yoga session at 105 degrees, come home to eat for the first time in 9 hours, send me the schedule for tomorrow, finish laundry, put Merrick to bed, attend to Scarlett's hysteria, help Stryker with his schedule for finals and the ACT, combed Scruffy and then fell down a bit in exhaustion.

That's our day."

Here, the Matron falls into his arms and weeps.

Matron:  "We're the Titanic!."

John:  "Just one rough day.  And isn't the Titanic a great love story?"

Then they ate cookies and watched Downton Abbey.