I'm pretty certain 20 years ago, on a Friday night just like tonight, I was most likely sitting on my grandparent's couch. Was it blue at this point or had it been recovered in green fabric? I'm not sure. You see Friday nights were the times when my parents would drive my brother and I to Plano for an evening with Grandma and Grandpa. Our parents would quickly drop us off with a hug and a kiss then head out for their date night. It always was the same for my parents, Oldtimer burgers and fries from Chili's, my mom's favorite. For them it was a few hours to talk without us kids, but what was really forming were wonderful memories with my grandparents.
G-maRemembering those Friday nights, I can hear the oven timer inconsistently buzzing, reminding my grandma that the rolls in the oven were burning. She probably would have cooked chicken fried steak, green beans, and mashed potatoes. Like a true southern women, there was only watered down sweet ice tea or Caffeine Free (whats the point or was she hiding the real stuff from my brother?) Diet Dr. Pepper to drink. Eating in front of the television as a special treat, we would watch family friendly shows; ie The Wonder Years. For dessert in true family tradition, ice cream or even better, a milkshake courtesy of my grandpa. Fingers crossed Blue Bell was on sale that week at the local Brookshires.
As the dramatic adult newscast 20/20 starring Barbara Walters would start, my parents would stop back by to pick us up. By this point in the evening my grandpa would be "resting his eyes" with his head on the back of the couch. Hugging and saying our goodbyes my grandmother would hand my brother and I each a snack baggy of Honey Teddy Grams for the car ride back home. I guess when you are 9 years old, 15 miles north on 75 is too long of a drive without a snack. With the scent of leftover burgers filling the car, the silent stars in the night sky, and country music quietly playing in the background, it was the perfect start to any weekend.
Tonight Husband and I are having left over chicken noodle soup, I'm blasting Joe Cocker as loud as the neighbors will let me (I will admit there has been a bit of dancing too), and we are packing for our trip to Venice. Twenty years from now I hope to look back on a Friday night like tonight and have sweet memories of a time before kids, when it was just us, across the ocean on our own.