*Sigh*

Sam, Lucy and I went to the downtown grocery store tonight after dropping Claire at Grandma's and Grace at swim team. On our way down Loras boulevard, I glanced to my right to see 3 college age boys in workout attire lugging 3 12-packs of beer and a pizza towards a row of ratty townhouses. For a moment, I was filled with a longing so great it nearly brought a tear to my eye (for the beer and pizza, not the boys--I couldn't pick a single one of them out of a line up. But the beer was Bud Light).

I remember those days so vividly--when my entire Friday night to do list consisted of meeting friends at the Drite for happy hour and trying to make it back to the Pub before the 7 o'clock cut off for the meal plan. (And yes, we actually had to meet--a concept quite foreign to my 23 year old brother who can't quite fathom a college social life without a cell phone). I remember scarfing down pizza (Paul Revere's if I recall) with only a tiny spasm of guilt quickly silenced with a self-promise of a long jog followed by an hour in the weight room.

So here I sit, sipping a glass of red wine and refusing to insist that my putz-y family load up for our family dinner at a local hamburger joint. Maybe I'll order a beer with my dinner in solidarity with my old Friday night self. Somehow I'm guessing that old carefree feeling won't quite be the same with 4 wild ducklings in tow. Not that I'd trade places with that drunk girl in the jeans and flannel (that's what we ALL wore!). Well, not permanently anyway...