Sunday, October 14, 2012

Sunday, Sunday

should be sung as a dirge, I think. I hated Sundays as a kid, the blue of it, the going to church (boring), the driving around afterward (boring) in  the family station wagon, looking at houses, stopping to buy lumber at the hardware store, the whole day stretched out not a speck of joy. In fact, when I really think about it, the only time Sundays were bearable was when I had a job as a pastry chef and worked them, just another day. Even Henry, my most joyful of children hates Sunday. And Oliver has recently figured out that he hates them and wonders why they're so horrible. Why? he asked today, Why do they go on and on but then it's already over?

I bet you were wondering where my post was today. Here you have it -- a dirge of a post. But at least tomorrow's Monday.


  1. Ah lah. You know how I feel. Tom Robbins wrote about Sundays and how the NYT's was a sort of sponge for them. I am looking forward to Monday. Even though you can't trust that day.

    1. What?!? Tom Robbins wrote about how the NYTs is a sort of sponge for Sundays? That is EXACTLY what I love about Sundays.

  2. never went to church as a kid unless I went with friends just to get the gist of it. Sundays were for kicking back, big waffle breakfasts, reading the funnies and maybe taking a car ride into the hills during nice weather.

    Of course, Sat. was get the chores done day. Couldn't go anywhere until those were done. Consequently I often stayed home on Saturdays. Phooey.

  3. As a kid, I didn't like Sunday either. I think church killed it for me too. That, and omnipresent sporting events on television.

  4. And see, I loved Sundays! I guess it's because my parents worked on Saturday (we had a retail business-a gallery) and thus Sunday was our family day. Sunday to me is the New York Times and the Sunday comics from Newsday (color!) and hanging out in pjs in my parents bed doing the Times crossword puzzle together. Then a special brunchy breakfast like lox& bagels or pancakes. I guess we had very different childhoods! (I had already figured out you weren't a NY Jew like me) Sending you some Sunday happiness from here *~*~*~*

  5. Biffle and I have been talking lately about how boredom is probably an essential part of life as a kid. I almost never feel bored anymore (because there's always so much that needs to get done! So usually I feel anxious!), but Sunday afternoons are a time when it does seem that boredom stretches out. Perhaps that's useful for your boys.

    Sunday mornings are fun in our world because we often get the most amazing cinnamon rolls, made by the bakery down the street, and the ONLY make them on Sunday mornings. Mmmm. But there's nothing like that on Sunday afternoons.

  6. After seventeen years of being stuffed into tights and ferried to church, every Sunday morning still feels to me like a day of unexpected freedom. And yet, I do know what you mean. My girls are off school today, so we have an extended Sunday.

  7. Sundays weren't just awful, they felt like death, which I eventually came to connect to abuse. The dread of them lasted for decades; I can't say exactly when it ended. The good news is an absence of dread on Sunday. Maybe not having to be anywhere on Mondays helps.

  8. Oh I loathe Sundays but not because I'm bored, they just happen to herald yet another busy week. These weekends carry a lot of expectations - did I spend enough time with the kids? Am I feeling *relaxed* (imagine me saying that hyped up on 6 cups of coffee)? Did I write anything? Have we minimized the household filth? Will everyone have clean underwear for the week? Did anyone catch anything contagious during the family outing? By 3:00 Sunday there are usually a few "no"s in the mix and I wonder, once again, why I can't get more done.

  9. Sundays were the worst for me when our kids were really little. I would fall into a gloom on Sunday afternoon, the knowledge pressing into me that my husband would be abandoning me for work the next day, leaving me to wrangle, feed, entertain them on my own.



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