Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Home sweet home

Home again, home again

After an unbelievably fast month in Portland, Bailey and I boarded a red eye Friday night to make the cross-country trek to the east coast -- me on the plane, and Bailey in a crate somewhere in its nether regions. I don't care to relive the flying-with-pet experience, especially the bit where I knocked Bailey, crate and all, face-first off a SmartCart in the Portland airport. So let's just say it sucked and move on.

This week I'm back in Connecticut, in the house I grew up in, and life is easy. Dog wants to go out at 6 a.m.? Somehow it's taken care of; I get up at 9 and Bailey's long gone, working off some beefy homemade breakfast with a romp through the garden. Hungry? I take a walk to the kitchen, where my mother's whipped up two panfuls of eggplant parmesan while I dozed and read a chapter of Chicken Soup for the Deadbeat Daughter's Soul.

I'm not complaining, but it's tough to be a grown-up in these conditions -- which is probably why I regress 15 years every time I'm here. I can see why my mom finds it hard to believe that I'm a functional adult; judging from the inane things I say and do here, it's a wonder she trusts me to cross the street.

Take that eggplant parmesan. I was entrusted with one step in its preparation -- to turn off the sauce an hour after my mother left for work. I'm watching Family Guy reruns and downing the last of the Amstel Lights that I found tucked in the back of the fridge when the phone rings two hours later.

Mom: You remembered to turn off the stove, right?
Me: Oh. Shit. OK. Wait, you mean the little knob over the burner?
Mom: Yes. Turn it to off.
Me: OK. Wait. OK. I did it.
Mom: Very good.
Me: Wait. Should I put a cover on it?
Mom: That would be nice.
Me: OK. Hold on. Wait, Mom, this cover doesn't fit.
Mom: Find another cov...
Me: THIS COVER DOESN'T FIT.
Mom: You know, I had two kids when I was your age.
Me: I found a plate. The plate fits. Can I use a plate?

I swear, I'm much less of an idiot in real life. But I might as well enjoy this break from reality while I can, right?

Time for leftovers.

8 comments:

Tim said...

That sounds absolutely lovely. When I go home, it seems like I am more of an adult than I already am. No one wants to make a decision, so I am deciding. No one takes the initiative, so I initiate. When is my vacation? When can I regress?

What redeye did you take (UAL-PDX/ORD? That's a TOUGH one, too short to sleep well, and too late not to. Or JetBlue-PDX/JFK? That's a fantastic one, enough time to get good sleep, and gets you to NY around 8am).

bonjondoo said...

what scares me is my mom had three kids, a full time job and went to school, all on her own paycheck at my age. I have trouble remembering to feed my cat.

estuff said...

ahhhh... that actually made me laugh out loud. Thanks, I needed that.

Anonymous said...

I was in Bristol the week before - too bad I missed you timewise. Spoiled dogs are something I see as well. So my dad is romping around with Nomar (my sister and brother-in-law's beagle) when he pops his head in to point out the bunny in our backyard...once he knows I've seen it, he proceeds to go running across the yard, through the bushes, etc with Nomar yipping excitedly while probably thinking "kill the bunny." Later on, with Nomar at his own home, I see 2 bunnies in the backyard. I approach but keep a fair distance. My dad then reproaches me not to scare the bunnies...I think I just rated below the dog :(
Mel

Tanya said...

I regress, too.

Parents are notorious dog spoilers...Astro completely ignores his normal wet food when we visit my dad, because he knows he just has to wait 10 minutes until he's tossed a day old steak.

sharon.horowitz said...

You are so close to NYC! Come visit me with Bailey!

Eden From Sweden said...

Sarah, beware. I think Sharon will abscond with Bailey if you visit Brooklyn. And you know what sort of reputation those Park Slope Puppies have...

Anonymous said...

wait what happened to the buick