Lazy Saturday

A Saturday is never typical, at least for us. There's no routine, no structure. Appointments, parties and, most often, our whims, rule the day. This past Saturday? A combination of loafing, yard work and, for me, a night out.

We slept in. I don't think Superdad and I got out of bed until 9 a.m., which is unheard of.

The kids want waffles. They occupy themselves at the dining room table while Superdad and I slave away on buttermilk waffles, bacon, scrambled eggs and fresh fruit.


Following the meal, the big kids head out and join their friends. Superdad is off to a friend's house to borrow their tiller. He has big plans ahead of him. I clean up the kitchen and then head out and watch Elisabeth run up and down the block. Around lunchtime Elisabeth goes down for a nap and the big kids, plus a friend, request a picnic lunch. No problem!


Superdad begins his work. What's his task? Tilling up the backyard, which is one big weed. He wants to use pesticides. I don't. Who knows, he's probably right (that there's no danger in using pesticides) but poor Superdad pacifies me and, morally opposed to his task, spends five hours slaving away in the backyard with a tiny tiller. Isn't he a champ?


And how was Superdad repaid? I got to go out for a fun night with friends. Yes, I'm a lucky woman.

Superdad, on the other hand, bathed the children, fed the children, put the children to bed and then did work that he'd brought home. Yes, I'm feeling especially sorry for poor Superdad lately. He's been swamped, both with my silly requests and work.

Still though, it was a fun Saturday. And I think even Superdad would say that too.