It is that time of year again. I am being reminded that Santa Claus is making a list and checking it twice. He is gonna know who has been naughty and who nice. In my book nice has always equated obedience and rebellion equals naughty. But, I must say, some of the priorities have shifted as my years advanced.
I have been an adult for close to 50 years. Of age since the 1970s. Held responsible for my own actions and living with the results of my decisions. Yet there are many days I still hear the voice of a parent in my head, chiding or telling me what to do or not do, insistent I toe the line.
The rule about drinking directly out of the jug in the refrigerator? Be it milk or juice? I have no trouble following that rule. It is my own voice I hear, not that of a mother. Putting one’s mouth right on the lips of the jug where who knows who else has done the same is not tolerated. It is as repulsive as ham fat. Germy. It makes my skin crawl just to think about it. Probably the last time I drank directly from a pitcher or jug was 1964 – and then? I was not testing my mother’s boundaries, I only wanted to see how my lips curved around the innovative, supple, design of the latest Tupperware container – kind of like kissing the mirror. I was a child and I experimented.
But there is that rule that begins, “shut the door, what are you trying to do? Heat the whole outside?” Frankly, I have no desire to heat the outside but I do want to let the out of doors in, to freshen the entire house, to feel the breeze blow in one door and out the other, to breathe fresh air. There is also the matter of bracing the door open to transfer groceries from the porch to the inside whether scorching or freezing weather – especially freezing weather. Sometimes it just makes more sense to prop the door than to open it, bruise your behind, skin your heels and set down your packages to close it each time.
While I am confessing about broken rules, for many years, I grocery shopped hungry. How else would I remember to buy enough food for the growing masses? These days I have regressed to eating before I leave the house. No one needs an old lady fainting on aisle ten from lack of nutrition – they might think it was from shock at the food prices.
Another thing I do, ever so rebelliously, is fill the bathtub generously. It is a luxury. And let me tell you, it is cheaper to fill the tub and soak every day than to go to therapy or drive to the hot springs and pay the entrance fee every day.
But the crown jewel? The act of rebellion that causes me great glee every morning? Fixing my oatmeal. These days I eat deluxe oatmeal; organic rolled oats with raisins and almonds and dates (but no sugar) – not only for the taste, but for the hearty nutritional value. So, since it is such a decadent repast, let me tell you how to fix oatmeal rebelliously:
Remove favorite hand thrown pottery bowl from cupboard and place on counter. Open refrigerator door wide. No need to brace it with your butt or elbow, just let it rest on its hinges. Take the jar of almonds from bottom shelf and shake a few into your bowl. Exchange almond jar for chopped dates jar and sprinkle chopped dates into the bowl – all the while leaving the fridge door wide open. Do the same with the raisins. Close the door with a sigh of satisfaction, add oats and water and place in microwave for two minutes. You did it! You left the refrigerator door open for a full three trips across the kitchen without guilt – and with great enjoyment!
May your days be merry and bright – and may all your rebellions be non-life threatening!
