Note: This is a short piece I wrote at a recent writing workshop. The prompt was to write either about “Saturday mornings” or “On my way here”. It was a seven minute write. Here’s what happened:
On my way here I thought about Saturdays and Saturday mornings and how the day has changed or what I do on this day has changed from year to year.
Growing up I remember not liking Saturdays because there was no school on Saturday and I loved school. Later on I looked forward to Saturday evenings because I would get to do things—fun things—with my sisters. We might go to a school sponsored event or we might go to the drive-in, or to a dance.
As a mom, I looked forward to Saturday morning because it was a day to sleep in and spend lots of time with my kids. I remember waking up and hearing the slight sound of Saturday morning cartoons playing on the TV in the den, next to the master bedroom. The kids would get up and turn on the cartoons for themselves, turning the volume down low and letting Mom and Dad sleep in—at least sleep in until they could not agree on which cartoon to watch. That’s when they would come running in to Mom and Dad to settle the dispute.
When the kids were older, in high school, there were always places they had to go to meet with school mates for homework or to see some specific place for background info for school. Sometimes it meant taking a carload of their friends some place for some school activity for extra credit. I also remember taking them to cultural events like a cinco de mayo carnival or a dies y seis de septiembre festival. Saturday nights were for drive-in movies if they had nothing to do for school.
Then they were gone and all there is left is quiet as I wake up to an empty house with only me on Saturday mornings.
Wasted Days And Wasted Nights 
I love stream-of-consciousness writing. And your Saturdays have been much like mine. Now I enjoy the knowledge that I have a day to do pretty much what I want, which is lovely.
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That’s until the grandkids come, isn’t it?
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That’s right. If Anderson is here, it’s quiet until about 10:30 (he sleeps all night and into the morning) then it gets “unquiet”.
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I was thinking like Aniko. 🙂 I’m sure Saturdays Anderson is there are anything but quiet.
Love your description of changing Saturdays. They sound much like mine.
Was the writing workshop a one-time thing are will you be attending more? We need that connection to get us going. My new writing critique have spurred me to bang out more and more. It is fun to see what they are doing, too. Keep it up.
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Yes, Saturdays with Anderson are usually fun, unless he didn’t let me sleep the previous night but he’s a good sleeper, usually.
The workshop was a one time thing. They have the free ones only once or twice a year then there are pay ones but they don’t start until June, I think. Will try to attend one of those but they’re kind of far from me and on Sunday mornings so we’ll see if it works. Hopefully, it will.
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I enjoyed this, Corina, having been through my own changing Saturdays.
I used to associated Saturday mornings with The Smurfs. Our oldest son would be up bright and early to watch them on television. I think they came on at 7am, which was earlier than my husband or I wanted to get up so he would come into our room, turn on the little television we had in there, and lie at the end of the bed on his stomach, chin in hands, and watch from there. When our youngest son came along ten years later, we still had Saturday morning cartoons in our bedroom. Chris (oldest son) wasn’t yet too old to pile into the bed with us all.
It is quieter now with our sons grown and out on their own, although the cats come in when they hear us waking up and we all watch the morning news together. Well, the cats don’t watch the news. They look for attention from us. I’m looking forward to our first sleep-overs with our granddaughters (they live too far away for us to babysit) and some Saturday mornings with them.
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