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Opinion The Last Word

Memphis Is my Boyfriend: Snow Days, Losers, and Food!

A week spent stuck at home with tweens is not for the faint of heart.

It’s time for another tween/teen-friendly Memphis weekend! My kids are 15, 12, 12, (happy belated b-day, twins), and 10 years old. Unfortunately, this particular weekend landed on the Memphis Snowmageddon! So we went nowhere. But that doesn’t mean we did nothing!

Monday — Everything was covered in snow. It was MLK Day and I had planned on doing nothing anyway. I had stopped by High Point Grocery a few days before and picked up some items. (Hubby stopped by a store, too … a liquor store.) In other words, we had everything we needed. As I rolled over to go back to sleep, I heard a noise in the kitchen. First thought, “What could anyone possibly require from the kitchen at this hour?” Second, “I wonder how much those cabinets cost that close really slowly to prevent slamming them?” After listening to the cacophony that comes with someone cooking in — and destroying — the kitchen, a soft knock rapped at my door. My oldest child fixed me breakfast in bed! Hot Cream of Wheat topped with baked apples. We piddled around as we waited for MSCS to announce schools were closed. When they did, my hubby reminded the kids that they still had to brush their teeth and take baths.

Tuesday — When my kids are at school, I never hear tales of them starving. So can someone explain to me how at 10 a.m. we had to have a family meeting about the rationing of food? First, we took inventory of what we had on hand. Then we brainstormed and created a menu of lunch and dinner dishes. Lastly, we laid down the law! Under no circumstance could these crumb-snatchers eat anything that was needed for lunch or dinner. If they got hungry, they could eat a PB&J sandwich, ramen, or canned tomato soup. After spending a good chunk of the day doing work from home, I felt it would be nice to whoop the kids in a game of Monopoly. (I’d won the last two games!) We only had plain tortilla chips for a snack since they ate everything else. The game lasted four hours and I did not win. The last hour was brutal. I endured all sorts of verbal jabs from my oldest, who showed me no mercy. Upon bankrupting, I assigned him the chore of putting everything up neatly. I poured myself a glass of wine to lick my wounds only to be reminded by my daughter that I was supposed to have a “Dry January.” I stared at her in defiance as I drank straight from the bottle.

Wednesday — I woke up late to the smell of something burning. Irritated, I snuggled deeper into the covers. I know what you’re thinking, “You didn’t go see what was burning?” Absolutely NOT! Burnt food falls solidly in the categories of “None of My Business” and “I’m Not Eating It.” So you can imagine my surprise when hubby walks in with a plate of pancakes and coffee. I prepped my “I’m too old to be eating nasty food, even if my kids made it” speech, but was greeted with two perfect chocolate chip pancakes.

Later, I announced I was making chicken and dumplings for dinner. To be fair, I did Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe to decide who would be my sous-chef. I began, “Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe … ” Before I could finish, one of the twins HOLLERS and then calmly walks away. I was confused. Then the penny dropped. “If he hollers, let him go.” So I had to let him go and choose from the remaining kids. That was never the rule when I was growing up, but it makes sense. As I plated the dumplings, I called the kids down for dinner. They stared at their bowls, back at me, and back to their bowls. Twin #2 asked, “Where are the chicken dumplings?” Befuddled, I pointed to his bowl. He replied, “No, I thought you were making chicken dumplings like the ones at a Chinese restaurant.” While they devoured the meal, I told them the history of Southern chicken and dumplings and Black cuisine. Later we played “Uno No Mercy.” I lost that game, too.

Thursday — I opened my eyes to hubby placing a cup of coffee on my nightstand. I had to make my own breakfast, so I headed to the kitchen. I was greeted by my oldest son with a hug and a request. Can I teach him how to make French toast? Of course! We served up some French toast, and he topped it with his homemade whipped cream and baked apples. I balanced my day with work, video games, and reading. Everything was going swell until we ran out of dishwasher detergent. It’s now every person and dish for themselves. New rule: If you mess up a dish, you must wash it by hand! We are also dangerously low on eggs and butter. But not low on deodorant, which the boys seem to think is not a necessity. We played the Exploding Cats card game. I lost that game, too. My Dry January has officially changed to a Damp January.

Friday — My sleep cycle is all off. I woke up at 5 a.m., read in bed, went back to sleep, and finally woke up for good at 11 a.m. I was not greeted with breakfast in bed or hot coffee. I was served a nice Memphis-style “roasting” for sleeping so late. Since my clapbacks are infamously lame, I kept my mouth closed.

We spent the afternoon playing Nintendo Switch Sports. I did okay in bowling and golf. Not good enough to call it winning, but I’m proud of myself regardless. My oldest asked if I could teach him how to make chocolate chip cookies, so I busted out my recipe book and baked a batch with him. I am thankful for my tweens/teens. Because snow days with little children are not for the faint of heart.

Patricia Lockhart is a native Memphian who loves to read, write, cook, and eat. Her days are filled with laughter with her four kids and charming husband. By day, she’s a school librarian and writer, but by night … she’s asleep. @realworkwife @memphisismyboyfriend