Home Alone

I am home alone (not quite, as I write this, our senior most family member, Tigger the cat, is quietly sitting close by and watching me). Except that I wasn't left behind by mistake.

The holidays are over. The artificial Christmas tree has been disassembled and put away for another year. The strings of lights have been removed. The stockings hanging from the fireplace are down (by the way, Mr. Claus forgot to put something in the stocking with my name). The house full of noise, music, and daily talk through the computer (“skype”) with the other daughter (who has been away in Japan) is awfully quiet. All who came for the holidays are gone.

Now that the hustle and bustle of the holidays are over (and my wife doesn't have to spend all day in the kitchen for holiday cooking), my wife decided to take a little break and go visit her mother on the other side of the globe. She too left this morning.

So, temporarily I am home alone(for the dark hours of the nights and the weekends). Then again, when I am not alone, I am probably not too exciting to entertain the rest. So, my presence or absence may be irrelevant to others. But, I hate being alone, eating alone, talking to myself (and at times to Tigger, I am not sure Tigger understands me. He simply stares at me with a blank look. Perhaps my gibberish talk is too annoying or too dumb for him.), and wondering about the "good old days".

I like a little noise in the house. I like loud laughter and giggling. I like eating good food in the company of people. I like jokes. My wife has other ideas about these. All these are becoming rare (except during holidays) as my children think of me as "my old man". I suppose I am expected to act my age.

So, I am home alone posting these random ramblings. The house is awfully quiet. Tigger is bundled up like a ball with his head tucked inside. The outside is pitch black. There was one left over chocolate chip cookie from the holidays. I just finished that. Now I will soon get on the bed (which gives me back ache in the morning, Is it old age or a mattress that hates me?) and start counting sheep until I fall asleep.