Unaccompanied in DC

As most of you who read this blog know, Lisa and the boys are out of town. Yes, it took her three tries and nearly a week, but she finally got to North Carolina. I, however, am still here -- in an apartment by myself.

Now for plenty of married guys with kids, this sounds fantastic. There is no noise or mess that you didn't make. No one is telling you to do things around the house (except for the occasional phone call from your wife). There is no need to wear pants -- trust me this is a big one. Most importantly, no one keeps sticking "Daddy is Stnikee" (which I think is supposed to be Daddy is stinky) post-it notes to me as fast as his little first grade hand can scribble them out. Yes, the idea of being a bachelor again is a fantastic day dream occasionally when the kids are screaming and fighting or Lisa is leaving me with all of them to go out with her friends. (Believe it or not, she thinks she needs a break from us too sometimes.) But reality is much different.

I hope the Foreign Service will give us a big house.

I guess I've been married with kids for so long that I've forgotten how to live without them. It's become part of who I am, and that is probably why so many people make jokes about how I have a dozen kids. Hardly a day goes by when someone doesn't make an offhand comment about how in their mind I am kind of like Steve Martin in Cheaper by the Dozen. (My pre-maturing gray hair probably has something to do with that image too).

You could even say that I have been institutionalized, like the old man in Shawshank Redemption who got released from prison, but couldn't handle his freedom because he could no longer do things on his own -- like go to the bathroom without permission. Yeah, that's me. Oh and I can't sleep.

Am I free or lonely?

To make it even worse, I'm boring. This is an indisputable fact that I tried to mention to my A-100 classmates, but they all thought that I was joking. I can occasionally come up with something charming or entertaining to say, but for the most part, Lisa makes our friends for us, and she has to make me go out on the times that I do. (She's even been known to plan my guys night out.) Not that I don't have fun, but the reality is that I am a homebody who would rather stay in, eat Pizza, and watch TV than go out to a loud crowded bar where everything costs a ton of money and you can't sit down or hear yourself think. (You're also required to wear pants, which I count as a negative.) I like the people; I don't like the bars. Since everyone wants to go to a bar or a club, I usually opt out.

Notice that he is also pretty gray.

So, when Lisa takes the boys out of town, I live a very predictable, hermit-type lifestyle. I only see people while I'm at work, and I spend a lot of time watching SyFy in my underwear. (By the way, I still think that it's lame that they changed the name from SciFi to SyFy. As if spelling it a messed up way would get more people to watch.) I suspect that this is what my life is going to be like in a few years when Lisa sends me off on an unaccompanied tour to some terribly exciting and dangerous part of the world. (She keeps joking about this, but I'm starting to think she may be serious.) I would work, watch TV, eat pizza (or whatever kind of available junk food -- probably meat on a stick), work out, and talk to her on the phone/computer -- kind of like Doc Brown from Back to the Future except without a time machine. Alright not really, but it was the best analogy that I could think of. You know, lonely guy with crazy stuff all over his place who works all the time.

So, to answer the predominant wife and kids out of town question: Are you enjoying the "Single Life?" Yes, I did. I'm over that now. I'm ready for them to come home.