I played hooky on Monday.
It wasn't planned, and really it was completely my husband's fault.
Well, maybe it wasn't completely his fault in that I guess he didn't plan to be horrifically sick and weak and whiny. But really, when you train for a marathon and run double-digit miles every weekend, maybe you're breaking down your body, Christopher. Just maybe.
So I guess it totally was his fault for being such a dedicated trainer.
Since I don't work on Mondays I usually take that time to catch up on all the housework that's leftover from the weekend because those days are full of stuff to do and also laziness and a mountain of laundry. So by Monday my house is covered in leftover wine glasses, random socks, legos and baskets full of clean, unfolded laundry.
Sebastian is in school and Adele is in her preschool/daycare, so I have an awesome opportunity to get things done.
And I most definitely feel the pressure to get things done.
There's so much that needs to be completed on a daily basis, and we're all still trying to figure out how to manage the household now that I'm not home all day, every day to do everything. So Mondays and Fridays are my catch-up days.
This Monday Chris was sick. And I saw him laying down on the couch. I mean, yes, he felt horrible. But still, it looked nice. I wanted to shut off the drill sergeant in my head telling me I had to clean everything before the kids were home and start dinner and make the bread for the week.
Also for some reason I can't clean when other people are sitting down around me, anyway. Just can't do it. Not possible.
So I kind of just ... joined him. I sat down.
I didn't fold clothes.
I didn't wash dishes.
I didn't even pick up the random socks. (Really, what is with my family? If you take off your socks - PUT THEM IN THE DIRTY CLOTHES HAMPER, NOT ON DINING ROOM TABLE.)
The most work I did was cutting out a few patterns to sew. (More to come on that. I seem to have a new addiction. I got it bad.)
I watched movies. I watched television shows. I may have knit a few rows on a shawl. I had an actual conversation with my husband that wasn't interrupted by requests for snacks.
But mostly I relaxed. I ignored my list.
It was quiet and peaceful and one of the nicest days I've had.
And then I picked up the children and they came home fighting and arguing and complaining and generally acting like the heathens I know and love.
But I'll always have the memory, right?