When I was little, Sundays were looooong days.  They were good:  Sunday School, red Kool-Aid and cookies, covincing the parents that they wanted to go out to lunch.  But then we came home, and it was:  peel off the tights and wriggle out of the dress, feel the sugar buzz wear off, wander about with no structured activity, and avoid parents who want to nap and wanted me to sleep, too.  Bleck.

Inevitably I’d turn the tv on at some point, but yet again:  pretty blah.  Golf, infomercial, golf, news, crappy movie the parents wouldn’t let me.  And then there was this oddly mesmerizing show where folks dressed up and sang and dance and bubbles floated about.  Yes, it was Laurence Welk.  I didn’t really understand it:  why were they singing such old songs, and why were they so flippin smiley?  My folks talked about how it was a tradition in many families to gather around and watch Laurence Welk, and that folks used to gather around and actually sing together at home.  Old Fashioned Piano Hours.  Weird.  My brother always wished that one of the singers had a big fat piece of spinach stuck to his teeth:  now *that* would’ve been entertaining tv.

Hubby, JJ, and I don’t have a piano:  we have Hubby’s bass (which is actually at the church) and the Learning Drum (have some fun, everyone, play the drum).  We don’t watch Laurence Welk:  is that show even still on?  But we do have family time together:  around the aquarium.  JJ has taken a strong interest in staring at the fish in the tank on the kitchen counter.  He stands, puliing on the step stool, questioning loudly, “Da dow?  Da Dow?  Da DOW?  DA DOW?”  You can’t ignore him – he just gets louder.  I pull out the stool and put it in front of the tank.  He climbs up the two stairs, sits down, and looks at me, “Da DIE?”, patting the counter, instructing me that I”ll really be missing out if I don’t come watch with him.  And it’s not enough just to stand:  I must lean down to the counter to his level and look cause that’s how you watch fish in the appropriate manner – duh, foolish MotherFigure.  JJ then looks at his father, and the same treatment begins.

So we all stand.  Leaning on the counter.  Staring at the fish.  It’s not glamourous.  It’s not musical.  But it’s family, and it’s together.  And watching algae grow is about exciting as the ol’ LW – just a different kind of bubbles.

Daily Drivel, JJ Jawings