I never used to believe that owning and working on a dairy farm led to a certain type of lifestyle.
That is, until Steve and I celebrated our 19th wedding anniversary this past Tuesday.
I'll start from the beginning.
Steve and I don't have much of a social life. Yes, this is a fact. I don't know if it happens in a lot of homes, but our children tend to force us out the door.
I recall one time, Steve and I went out for supper. We called Joey on the way home and he was actually quite disappointed that we were just minutes from walking in the front door. He also suggested, and if you have the highest moral standards you may want to stop reading here, but he suggested we actually go parking!
Can you believe it? He even recommended a dark deserted road. It wasn't a particular road, just a recommendation that we find one.
We still laugh about that.
Joey and Russell are afraid that as they age, they are going to turn into the same type of parents that Steve and I become. Apparently it is quite uncool to be in bed before 10 p.m.
Years ago, some dear friends - well, the wife is a dear friend; the husband is a questionable acquaintance - anyway, they asked us to go out for supper, under one condition; it "couldn't be before 6 p.m., because that's when all the retired people go out for supper."
The friend's husband does have a point.
It's just so hard for us to stay awake past 9 p.m.
We're pathetic. Steve falls asleep, and starts snoring, as soon as he hits his recliner on the end of the sectional. I roll over and fall asleep minutes after I quit reading my book. And no matter what Steve may say, I do not snore.
So Tuesday morning, because it was our anniversary, and Steve was going to be out planting corn most of the day, we chose to go out to eat for breakfast. Hey, we wouldn't have to worry about coming home early and finding a dark, deserted road.
We made small talk regarding our families, employment, how we milked cows together the morning of our wedding and yadda, yadda, yadda while we waited for our omelets.
For a bit we said nothing to each other and I was looking around at all the other patrons.
Then I noticed that one particular couple was having lunch by ordering hamburgers. It wasn't even noon yet. "They must get up early," I thought.
Then it dawned on me that we were surrounded by retired people.
I couldn't help but laugh. I somewhat consider myself "retired" from working off the farm, but this was a bit disconcerting.
"Do you happen to see what kind of company we are keeping eating out on a weekday morning," I asked Steve.
"No, why?" he asked.
"We are surrounded by senior citizens," I chuckled.
Not that it bothers us all that much. In fact, one time Steve received the senior citizen discount without even asking for it.
Naturally, I took a picture of the receipt and posted it on Facebook.
Steve loved saving the 10 percent.
Having breakfast that morning has led me to believe that, yes, living and owning a dairy farm has led us to a different type of social life. We much prefer to get up early and go to bed early.
We are just blending in with the retirees, but that's OK. Next time I go out for breakfast I may have to take a deck of cards for a wicked game of Sheephead.
For questions, or comments, e-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org.