Empty Nesters Unite

Like many of you, I was meant to be a parent.  I am the Roy Hobbs of fatherhood - The Natural.

Specifically, my wheelhouse is being the parent of boys between the ages of 1 through 12.  My physical and mental skills match up fairly well to this group.  I excel at living room fort building – a regular Frank Lloyd Wright with blankets and pillows.  I hold my own at Pre-K soccer, scoring my share of goals, thank you. 

I am – to this group, just plain fun. I hate to brag, but seven year olds find me very funny.  Hey, gassy noises ARE a laugh riot; pretend or otherwise.

By and large, the parenting gig is a long term contract.  But as any veteran parent can tell you, there are distinct phases in child rearing.  These phases are all well documented, so there is no need for me to tell you obvious things like how useless babies are -  (Sorry, newborn, learn to hold your head up on your own and we can talk)  - or how teenage girls need to be locked away because, frankly, there is not a person alive who knows how to deal with them.

Anyway, I have entered the phase that everyone likes to announce to you that you are in.  “You’re an Empty Nester!” people tell me, with a knowing grin and a nodding head – like they have uncovered some deep, dark secret.  Yes, it is true.  My name is Mike Vickery and I am an Empty Nester.  Acknowledgment is the first step to recovery, right?

Personally, the adjustment to Empty Nester has not been all that rough.  I was always Captain Underpants, roaming my house in my Hanes. The freedom of semi-nudity is nothing new. 

I am the father of three independent sons, all self-driven, well-adjusted and fairly sane. They take after their mother. The boys stopped building living room forts with me years ago.  I am thinking of giving it up soon, myself.  The bottom line is that my boys have been preparing me for the Empty Nest Phase since they were 13.

Greendale is full of Empty Nesters as we come to the Bubble for the great and stay for the great life. You will find many 4-bedroom, 3-bathroom homes in which no one has been upstairs in years. That third toilet has not been flushed since the last goldfish “died.” Greendale has streets of houses, each occupied by just two people.  Two people, wearing sweats, talking about their Treks, and enjoying the senior discount at Baker’s Square.

This touches on the only problem with the Empty Nest Phase – over abundant resources.  There is no possible way to effectively downsize. 

In our hey day, a gallon of milk bought at 6 a.m. was a HDPE recyclable by noon.  A loaf of bread was considered a ‘quick snack.’  We thought “day old bakery” was a silly joke – like “an honest politician.” The hum of the wash machine and dryer was Residential Muzak.

Now?  We are negotiating with Pick 'n Save to sell us milk by the cup.  I am trying to get three neighbors to sign into my Bread Coop, where we could subdivide a loaf four ways.  Green is fine for Kermit, but not my Brownberry Double Fiber. The wash machine gets run once a week only because we think it needs the exercise.  You don’t indefinitely keep a retired Clydesdale in the stable, do you?

Empty nesters, for the good of the planet, we need to unite.  With the heating season rapidly approaching, lets shutter up five houses and form a herd until May.  We can alternate houses on a yearly basis – each hosting one winter every six years.

We all just have to promise to buy bathrobes.

(Hey Bubblers - ITB is going the 'less is more' route.  Starting in October, Inside the Bubble will appear the second and fourth Thursday of the month.  Bye to the weekly.  Hello to the Bi-weekly.)