These are the good old days

This weekend, we stayed home. Outside it rained, and inside we had a fire in the fireplace. I tried out a new cookie recipe, and it has won approval from my tasters. 

Toys have taken over our entire living space. Wooden track for The Polar Express crisscrosses the living room floor, interspersed with the debris of downed Star Wars spaceships made of Legos. Tinkertoy constructions jostle each other on one end of the coffee table, competing with the miniature bowling pins arranged in neat triangles at the other end. The television plays Star Wars video games. I can’t remember what the house looked like when it was occupied only by adults.

In an upstairs bedroom, a non-child-centered TV tells me how one family solved their landscaping and decorating dilemmas. A couple stands proudly in their perfect new environment. I think of all the things I’d like to do to upgrade the house: pave the driveway, redo the landscaping, improve the master bath, get a fancy new stove.

But in the shower this morning, I started singing Carly Simon’s “Anticipation.” And I want to stay right here, because these are the good old days.