On one particular rainy afternoon, I counted seventeen kids (ranging in age from 10-17) in my matchbox-sized home. I'm convinced that this is when my love for margaritas began.
My house was always LOUD. Music blasting, televisions blaring, giggling, squealing and raucous games of basketball in the driveway---this was the norm. The chaos never bothered me. I loved my role as the entertaining "cool" mom, and was happy to provide enough calorie-ladened snacks to feed an army brigade.
I was also ten years younger with an endless supply of energy that could rival the stamina of the Energizer bunny.
* A lower grocery bill. My supermarket expenses will finally be lower than my monthly mortgage payment. I will no longer need to buy stock in toilet paper, milk or Axe Body Spray.
* My car insurance rates will drop….but so will my tax deductions. Perhaps the I.R.S. will count fostering male dogs with bathroom handicaps as a tax deduction.
* My house will stay clean. No more hazardous waste piles of laundry or a bathroom requiring a
Hazmat team to scrub it clean.
* We can travel spontaneously anywhere in the world---or maybe just to Walmart---without needing to hire a babysitter.
* No more math homework (Y=mx+b... HUH?), erupting volcanoes in the kitchen (science experiment) or thirty page term papers on the Civil War that create tears of frustration (and several shots of tequila for mom).
* My husband and I can finally have a REAL adult conversation instead of the usual, "Has he pooped today?", Did she eat her greens?", "Make sure he brushes his teeth before bed", "Does she want fries with that?"
* No more detailed school supplies lists from teachers (what do you mean you need a specific brand of environmentally safe markers made in China by three-fingered panda bears?). And no more expensive school uniforms (Honey, you're NOT wearing a plaid mini skirt and heels to school in a reckless attempt to imitate Jenna Jameson in an adult movie!).
* I don't have to cook for a crowd every night. The Hubs and I will be perfectly content to snarf down a bowl of Cocoa Puffs for dinner while watching an episode of Hoarders.
* No more part time job as a taxi driver chauffeuring kids in a beat-up mini van to choir, gymnastics, karate, dance, soccer, cheerleading or band. It also signifies the end of chaperoning school field trips to the zoo and getting parrot poop on my head.
* Sex 24/7. Every night can be a date night, and every moment is a Cialis moment. The only thing that's missing is matching bathtubs in a wildly inappropriate place, like the tool aisle at Sears.
As I revel in my thoughts of newfound freedom, my eighteen-year-old son informs me has picked the college he'd like to attend….and it's only ten minutes from our home. Looks like my empty nester plans will have to be put on hold a little bit longer. But I can still dream, can't I?
***My weekly feature over at In The Powder Room is a funny spin on aging. You can read all about it here: http://www.inthepowderroom.com/read/me-time/2013-12-truth-about-aging.html
http://betterafter50.com/2013/12/i-got-a-colonoscopy-with-my-husband/ and http://humorwriters.org/2013/12/07/holiday-from-hell.html