A Lonesome Heart

It's a foggy Saturday afternoon and I'm cozied up on the sofa in front of the fire with a cold beer and my trusty laptop (aka ALONE). Most girls would kill for this but I recline here with a heavy heart laden with guilt.
Today was a rare family day as John had the entire day off (a semi weekly happenstance). We had planned to spend the entire day on the beach, basking in the sun and playing on our new longboard. Apparently, mother nature had a different plan because we awoke to fog thicker than clam chowder. It hung on the eaves and dripped down our windows.
John cheerfully grabbed his surfboard and headed out into a sunless horizon for his morning exercise. We reunited mid morning and munched on bacon and toast over the kitchen counter. The minutes sped by as the impending return to John's work week and my single parenting loomed. We paced across the living room anxious to make the most of our time together, yet equally confused by our unfortunate weather circumstance.
Noon. Where did our morning go? What about lunch? What about Ana's nap? We needed to get out of the house and we needed to get out now. We loaded up our surfboards, buckets and snacks, and then bundled up in our winter gear before heading north in search of sun and some lunch.
If you haven't been to Ruddell's Smokehouse in Cayucos, their salmon tacos are to die for and they can make a sunless day more tolerable.
We spent the next few hours living up our afternoon together before teeth chattered, diapers sagged and stomachs growled. Ana was asleep before we had finished packing up the sand toys.
Upon arriving home, Shelby had a second wind, fixating on her "Snow Princess Costume" and the mention of her cousin's pumpkin party this evening. I agreed that although her sister was fast asleep and in desperate need of a nap (considering the vibrant shades of snot pouring from her nose today)there was no reason why Shelby couldn't wear her costume.
Skip to the part where my over worked husband pulls out of the driveway with his Snow Princess perched in the back seat. Heading towards the pumpkin party on the same winding 45 mile road he drives twice daily...on his one day off. Enter guilt laden, heavy heart.
I'm at home with a sleeping baby, a crackling fire and a cold beer. And I feel terribly alone...and terribly guilty.

1 comment:

JO said...

Well, we missed you! And I second the yumminess of the Smokehouse!