December 23, 2001 ~ Housewife? Me?
Well, call me your typical American housewife!
Morgan's stepfather wanted to do something... well... fatherly with Morgan, so he took him out to a football game today. Morgan, as you can probably guess, scholar and bookworm that he is, has never really had an interest in football, but he figured he would go ahead and give it a try.
So here I am, husband off at a football game, spending the day at home with my mother-in-law, doing wifely things like baking cookies, grocery shopping, making cinnamon Christmas ornaments, and washing my husband's underwear.
And, to tell the un-politically correct truth, I'm actually quite enjoying it. Well, all except the fact that Morgan's not around, since he's busy watching men get concussions from running into one another at full speed on purpose... But I wouldn't mind being a housewife full time, if it meant children and a life lived giving in that way.
I've had time to have a nice long talk with my mother-in-law, to bake (which I love), and to just relax a little, enjoying the fact that I don't have any homework to get done by Monday.
My mother-in-law and I get along quite well. She's a writer and a high school English teacher, so our interests are fairly similar. It's great to have a chance to catch up with her at length.
Morgan's mom and stepfather just bought the place that they are living in.
When we went out for groceries, I noticed that there was a little cross with ribbons, flowers, and other such things set up near their driveway that hadn't been there when they first moved in. I asked about it.
My mother-in-law explained that one day, a woman and her young child had come by the house and had put up that cross. After they left, my mother-in-law had gone out to look at what they had done. On it were some bible passages, a phone number, and a man's name with a date of about a year ago.
Instead of pulling up the cross, or calling the number to ask questions, my mother-in-law decided to ask around the neighborhood for an explanation.
The previous owners had been a man, his wife, and their young child. Where the driveway comes out to join the street is just below the crest of a hill, so you can't really see the oncoming traffic until it is right on top of you. Pulling out of that driveway is a leap of faith and a prayer.
One day a year ago, the man's prayer wasn't answered. As he pulled out, a car crested the hill, going a bit over the speed limit, and instantly collided with the driver's side door of the man's car. He died before the emergency vehicles arrived, leaving his wife and child alone.
My mother-in-law now always holds her breath as she pulls out of the driveway, hoping.
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