Ferris Bueller's Day Off

Realizing, of course, that I have just irrevocably dated myself with that reference, I still think it's appropriate for my Friday of Freedom.

Okay, I didn't steal my dad's classic car and drive all over Chicago with it, but I did get to shop for a good portion of the day, which is really the mommy equivalent. Also I got to go to the mall ALONE. WITHOUT KIDS. BY MYSELF.

And I am here to tell you that when you are ALONE, you can actually have thoughts. Long, connected thoughts about what you're doing and how you're going to do it. You can wonder how much something costs and then remember to check the price tag. It's true: children are a serious inhibitor of rational thought. I've always suspected this, but only in a a sort of dim, nebulous way because my trains of thought never go anywhere when the kids are with me. You know, you have a hunch that you're not making a bucket load of sense, but it's hard to confirm over the chorus of "MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY!" By the time you get everyone to shut up, you forget what it was you were worried about.

So I went, I shopped, I thought, I did what I wanted to do and it was blissful and invigorating and entirely too short.

And my husband says he doesn't see why I can't have a day off every month. Every month.

I knew there was a reason I married him.