Enough is a good as a feast

When I was younger, if someone had asked me to define a good evening, I would have required a nice dinner out somewhere, followed perhaps by a night at the symphony or at a coffe shop with friends, discussing semi-weighty matters late into the evening.

Fast forward . . .

Tonight The Bigs are at a swim meet with my wife. Jonah and I played Lego Star Wars together. (FYI, Jonah has now decided that he wants to be a "good General Grievous" when he grows up, instead of Darth Vader.) Then I made peanut butter toast for The Littles while listening to the Hugh Hewitt show. (Also FYI, peanut butter toast is to Jonah what pizza was to me in college: the perfect, all-occasion food, suitable for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It must be cut into 4 squares, though, because 4 is the magic number in Jonahland.)

While The Littles were eating (or, sadly, not eating) I made red beans and rice for myself. I made enough for dinner tonight, as well as some for lunch tomorrow. I ate it while listening to Hugh.

In a few minutes, the boys will go to bed, and I will either go watch TV (Battlestar Galactica pilot or Team America: World Police, so hard to decide) or else keep playing Lego Star Wars. Or I may work on an online ordering page for work.

And it occurs to me that I'm happy.

"Silly man," you may say, "you only think you are happy."

That works just fine for me.