Why do I feel like Memorial Day is a bust without some grilled meat? I’m not sure how our fallen soldiers are honored by charred cow but that’s what we do. Our grills get lit faster than Lindsay Lohan. Unless your grill is dirty and every mosquito in the U.S. is bred in your backyard. There’s something about coating myself in Deet and scrubbing a dirty grill that takes all the fun and relaxation out of a holiday.
Just when I thought my expectations of the day couldn’t get any lower, I found myself sitting on the couch in my pajamas, eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. For lunch. In my pjs. Clearly we did not have any plans. That’s when Jon suggested we pack up and go to Centennial Park where they were having a blues festival. And by “pack up” I mean a blanket. There was a severe lack of food… as in, none. So we spent the afternoon in the park, strolling, lounging on a blanket, listening to music, playing with Drew, and trying not to gnaw our arms off in the midst of everyone else’s Memorial Day feasts. We decided to pick up burgers from Five Guys on the way home. The holiday I imagined ended up being overrated. In the end, I didn’t have to cook. Or clean. Or host. Or do much of anything for that matter, except spend a beautiful day with my two boys. I’ll take that over charred cow any day.