There were no wild and wacky adventures. No slapstick comedy. No “adorable” child star.
Bit it’s finally happened. I’ve had the house completely to myself since yesterday afternoon. Three of our number are far away, and one spent the night with a friend across town.
I celebrated being home alone for a night and a morning by…
•taking a nice, long nap
•handling a few tricky work emails without interruption
•doing half an hour of Pilates at the time of early evening when normally people would be clamoring for dinner
•watching a mystery while I ate – including THREE PIECES of garlic bread – my favorite – with no one to give me disapproving looks
•knitting for four hours straight while watching “A Christmas Story,” which no one else in the family can stand, and another mystery movie. (Disclosure: my hands, wrists, and elbows are now so sore I probably won’t be able to lift my coffee cup this morning.)
•staying in bed after I woke up, to write a post as I listen to a chilly rain fall outside my bedroom window. So cozy.
Truthfully, I miss the noise and chaos of having all five of us home. I miss the quiet, companionable presence of the one family member who’s still here most of the time.
But being Home Alone for a change was really a pretty pleasant experience.