What we watch when we watch alone

Last Saturday, the boys spent the afternoon and evening at my parents’  house.  Scott and I went back home for a few relaxing hours before heading out to a tapas bar.  It was strange sensation to be back at home without hearing four little feet running over hardwood floors.  Scott celebrated the silence by taking a nap; I pulled out some mending, savoring the fact that I could leave a pincushion of needles on the coffee table and not worry about a toddler impaling himself.  It felt odd and quiet and, to be honest, very nice.

And do you know when it really hit me that I had a few hours to myself?   When I went to the DVD player and took out this:

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and put in this:

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