January 1, 2009
K. L. Romo

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Yep, You Guessed It …

What can I say – I tried really, really hard to be more of a “partyer” this New Years (at least for the sake of my younger kids, who like to stand on the front porch and bang pots and pans at midnight while drinking sparkling cider fake champagne.  I went home from work  (via the grocery store) and snagged an hour nap – my preparation for a night of wild and crazy carousing waiting for midnight to roll around.

On our way to dinner, my husband told me that he’d had a New Year’s revelation during the day.  I anticipated that he was going to tell me of a soul-searching issue he had been contemplating, finally coming to a decision.  Well, my high hopes for something inspirational were good and all that, but he announced that he’s finally come to a decision about what to do with the back yard.  Wow that was a mind-blower!!

Dinner consisted of our family of fifteen (half of them kids) crammed into a  private room, which was especially good for keeping the little “runners” at bay.  After scarfing down a good supply of comfort food (chicken-fried chicken and cream gravy – yum), it was time to hit the road toward home.  I was wearing more of my grandson’s food that he managed to get into his mouth – launching edible missiles his favorite dinnertime activity.  Oh well, I didn’t need clean pants anyway.

I was determined to make it to midnight – I think I can, I think I can – my mantra every New Year’s Eve.  10:15 and counting…

I got home and broke out the sparkling cider fake champagne for the kids, complete with plastic fluted glasses.  And it dawned on me – I’d forgotten to buy the requisite black-eyed peas.  I searched my pantry and freezer high and low for the little buggers, even looked through the bag of 15-bean soup, but couldn’t find not a one.  Had I just doomed my family to a year of misery?  Oh well, I decided that at least my kids could legitimately blame their bad luck on their mother.  Giving them a scapegoat was a pretty good New Year’s gift, I thought.

My lids were growing heavy – the champagne I’d bought in the hopes of revelry still sitting in my fridge.  Comfy bed or champagne?  Comfy bed or champagne????  Countdown – 11:00 PM.

Yep, I chose the comfy bed.  I apologized to my eleven-year-old daughter for having such boring parents, and she said it was OK.  Of course she then told me that the better answer would have been to disagree with me, but …  the truth is the truth!

My seven-year-old crashed at 11:30.  One down.

Then at 11:56, between drifting in and out of consciousness, I called to my daughter, and asked if she wanted to go to the front porch to ring in the New Year with pots and pans (our normal celebration of choice).  But lo and behold, she said she was too tired.  Two down.  That was my signal…

Yep – you guessed it.  I think I fell asleep at 11:59.  Without champagne.  Without drunken revelry. Without participating in the expected New Year’s hooplah.   But I had a contented sleeping family safely tucked away, and what more could a middle-aged woman ask for? 

So Happy New Year to all, and to all a good night!

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