That’s what my mom calls the dinner hour. Bean time. As in: bean time for the puppies, bean time for the grandkids, “You ready to take a break? It’s bean time!”
As often as I have heard her use that term, I never really mulled it over in my subconscious (um, consciously) until now. I would like to set our bean time.
I’d like for dinner to be served at 6:00 at our house, barring strange or unusual events. 6:00 seems the most reasonable time to assimilate our evening meal, given our work schedules, evening chores and bedtimes. If I shore up my efforts at pre-planning the meals and all that is involved in cooking them, then 6:00 should be totally do-able.
I don’t know, maybe I just like the idea of my kids knowing dinner is at 6:00 regardless of what else is going on….or how old they get. I picture them being all grown-up and just instinctively knowing that if they make it to mom’s by 6:00, there will be dinner served, for them and whomever they bring along.
I like those little glimpses into the future when they hit me out of the blue. Although, I kind of concocted this one, so I don’t know if I can call it a true glimpse. I had the original True-Blue Future Glimpse in college. I looked over at Dom and saw gray in his sideburns. Two blinks, and it was gone. I knew instantly that I would grow old with him.
Maybe there exists an infinitesimal difference between a glimpse and a desire. Something internal, defined somehow by either destiny or hard work. Whatever the nature of my glimpses, I do know that everything I love about this life has taken a lot of work, and has been well worth the effort.
Before I get all philosophical on ya, what say we save this chat for bean time? Y’all drop by around 6. Dinner will be on the table.
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