We Eat Dinner Late

With the close of this very recent spring semester, I find myself at home. Being home has been, thus far, very soothing after the chaos of classes and homework. Now, in the past when I have said "I'm going home" it means I'm just going back to the area of my home, where I grew up. Since high school graduation I haven't spent much time at my actual home with my family. This summer, however, that's different. I've already spent more time at home in the past two weeks than I have in the last two years and it feels good to be home. It's 10:30 and my mom, Bob, and myself just finished our leftover meatloaf dinner. We eat dinner late, we always have. Sometimes it strikes people as odd that we don't eat dinner at or around six o'clock. To be honest its out of the ordinary for us to eat before eight. It's these day to day rituals that I have missed.

As I come to a close on this late night post, I find myself at a loss for what the "moral"of this short story is. Maybe there isn't one, and if there is, I have yet to discover it. So I will leave you with a nice little ditty by Incubus called Privilege.

After listening to this song, I solved the "moral" problem. I realized that the day to day rituals of staying at home that I, for years, took advantage of and grew tired of, they are a privilege. It took losing these privileges to realize what I had.