We were watching an episode of Thirtysomething on Netflix a few nights ago. ‘This parallels my life too closely,’ the professor winced, ‘I can’t watch this.’ Screaming baby, tired, overwhelmed (thirtysomething!) parents….It was eerily familiar. And I was hooked, in spite of the dated outfits. I finished the pilot and started the second episode which was, aptly named, ‘the parents are coming’.
Less than forty eight hours later, ‘the parents’ arrived: the professor’s parents landed in the snow-covered frozen tundra for a visit. We had plans to stay in Banff for a week, and they’d offered to watch our three boy-children in Calgary. So the professor and I could kick off the week in the mountains, alone. Sans enfants.
I think the last time we spent twenty-four hours without children was July, 2007. A month before the Hen arrived on the scene. Needless to say, we were a little excited at the prospect.
We left Calgary at 4pm on Sunday. ‘Can we stop at Starbucks?’ I asked as we jumped in our non-minivan rental car. The professor dutifully drove to Starbucks, ‘do you want to go in’, he asked. I looked at him. ‘I guess we could both go in,’ it occurred to him, ‘seeing as we don’t have any kids. I’m just so used to someone having to stay in the car with the kids!’
It’s the small things really: buy one, share one holiday drinks at Starbucks. The Sunday edition of the New York Times (even though I still won’t read it.) Having to drive back to the house because I didn’t bring a coat. (Priceless!)
‘It’s going to be a nice drive,’ the professor joked when we finally hit the road. It wasn’t. Darkening, foggy skies. Blowing snow and icy roads. Snow-covered exit signs causing us to miss our exit….but it was a quiet drive. And I didn’t have to turn around in my seat to hand anyone food, or drinks, or pick up lost toys.