Thursday, November 11, 2010

An Evening with the Janssens

It's a quarter to seven. Mom just got home and she's sitting in front of the computer. I'm in the kitchen, carefully watching the clock. Dad walks in the front door, carrying the tell-tale bags from Grocery Outlet ("I can't not stop by when I'm in the neighborhood, because they've always got insanely good deals on cheese and outstanding prices on vegetarian meat analogs."). If Grocery Outlet were a human, my dad would leave my mom for her, no doubt about it.

Now that both parents are present and accounted for, I swoop in and immediately begin administering the finishing touches to the dinner that's been in process for the last hour or so. Dad comes into the kitchen, reaches for the roasted pumpkin seeds from the night before that are in a plastic container on the counter and munches on a few. I tell him, "Don't snack! Dinner is in the process of being served!" He looks up at me sheepishly, throws his hands in the air, and backs away from the seeds.

The table is piled with grocery bags, so we eat on the couch. I can tell my mom is pleased with dinner, because she tells me I should open a restaurant. This is what she tells me every time I cook something that she likes. Tonight I made sandwiches, so she says, "You and your dad should open a sandwich shop!" Then she and my dad agree, as always, that owning a restaurant would be an overly time-consuming enterprise, better left to those who are truly passionate about it. I bring out dessert, and it is greeted with further exultations of entrepreneurial potential.

I suggest that we watch a movie together. I make popcorn. Dad watches the first two minutes and then goes to the other room to watch hockey. Mom watches the first eight minutes and then begins to snore. I watch the next hour of it by myself until Lindsay comes home from work and watches the ending with me.

After that, Lindsay and I retreat to our respective bedrooms. I round out the night with a few TV comedy episodes on Netflix and, if I'm up to it, some light blogging.

I feel like I'm stuck in a rut. I'm keeping an eye out for ladders.

No comments:

Post a Comment