My husband and I each took different days off recently to do our own thing. This is how my day went.
Wake up at 7:46 a.m. Consider it a triumph that husband has taken child to school.
Discover child's toothbrush on dining room table with toothpaste still on it. Flinch thinking about child's un-brushed teeth leading to cavities and kid breathing his stinky morning breath onto other human beings. Remember it's been more than 6 months since child's last dentist appointment. Call dentist. Learn next Saturday appointment is in another calendar year. Take it anyway.
Empty the dishwasher of mostly clean dishes that have been in these same positions for a week. Reload the dishwasher with the festering dishes that are in and around the sink, and inexplicably, in the microwave. Wash hands of indiscernible kid food that latched onto fingers in loading process.
Hurriedly devour bowl of cereal upon realizing impending conference call is imminent. Regret agreeing to join a call on day off; remember it'd be more annoying to align seven people's schedules on another day. Hop on call.
Speak for first 8 minutes. Stay on for full hour. Hop off as it seems to be wrapping up. Get email saying everything changed at end of call and we need a new call.
Write thank-you cards for child's birthday more than a month ago. Get through three of 11 before realizing I'm out of stamps and must shower before long-awaited massage appointment.
Call to confirm dinner reservation. Call reservation an appointment. Pretend reservationist isn't laughing at me while taking off 3-week-old chipping nail polish that more closely resembles Rorshach Test blobs than purple lacquer.
Turn on shower. Finally have enough time and few enough distractions to notice dirt on walls. Scrub until Will Smith's "Miami" comes on my phone. Rap while showering. Shave for so long fingers turn pruney.
Empty overflowing trash in bathroom. Collect five toilet paper roll tubes and finally bring them downstairs and recycle them.
Get dressed. Remember having free aromatherapy coupon at salon. Call to get it added on to massage appointment. Stay on hold for 15 minutes as phone is dying. Regret not charging it while Will Smith blared. Reservationist answers. Realize my coupon has expired.
Hurriedly devour peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich for lunch.
Run out the door for massage appointment. Stressed because I'm going to be late after unforeseen hold time for useless aromatherapy coupon. Arrive, thankful that tardiness scolding is minimal, in the form of a pair of raised eyebrows. Hand over gift certificate from the prior year's Mother's Day that I haven't had the chance to use. More raised eyebrows.
Change into fuzzy robe and squishy sandals. Go to relaxation room. Read intense political magazine story that is anything but relaxing. Get whisked away to treatment room. Can't stop thinking about intense political story and new conference call scheduled for my day back.
Answer a dozen work emails when I'm reunited with cellphone in locker. Head to hair appointment for first haircut in six months because weekends are so busy and salons are always closed by the time I get home from work.
Get manhandled by rough, angry woman who seems to derive pleasure from banging my cranium against deep sink. Wince as she wrings out (and pulls out) my hair. Thankful to be in stylist's chair.
Get lectured about sad state of my tresses. Vow to buy better blow dryer. Mentally search for 20% off Bed Bath & Beyond coupon I can use to purchase $90 blow dryer. Watch 4 inches of hair cover the floor beneath me. Pay with prior year's Christmas gift card. More raised eyebrows.
Pick up child from daycare early. Vow to play outside with him upon return home. He cries the whole walk home and only wants to stay inside and watch Paw Patrol. Day off over.
This is how my husband's day off went.
Wake up at 11:26 a.m.
Leisurely eat cereal.
Play video games for 7 hours, getting up twice to use restroom, once to eat peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich and once to retrieve package, hoping new video game has arrived.
Shout, "It's open," when wife and child return home at dinnertime.