A Week of Mondays

Every summer since we moved here, starting about mid-June, whenever The Husband and I hear about a great restaurant or a summer blockbuster or some other less-than-kid-friendly activity, we look at each other and say, "Put it on The List."

As in, the list of super-awesome-fun-grownup-I've-got-time-to-linger-over-dessert-the-house-stays-clean-no-grocery-shopping-since-I-ain't-cooking activities that we put together for our annual Empty Nest Extravaganza.

THAT list.

The kids are up at "Grandma's Farm" this week and next, and as usual, it's the perfect way to end the summer. The grandparents get to love up their grandbabies and get nice and sick of the kids so that they can last until the next visit. The kids get the royal treatment and spend fun-filled days going on field trips and spending precious time with their cousins.

And we get to go to that amazing new restaurant everyone's talking about. And take in a concert down by the lake at the bandshell. And test drive cars. And catch up on 30 Rock without having to wait until the kids are put to bed.

Oh, and the projects! I have a nice long list of projects around the house that I want to get done without the littlekins around and The Husband has been forced upon penalty of me not coming on any test drives agreed to help me!

Of course, there's a downside (because the sunny side of the street makes me squint). When every evening feels like the weekend...

....every morning when I head in to work, it feels like Monday. Blech.

(Although, the flip side of that is that every bus ride home it feels like Friday afternoon again. So there's that.)