Hermithood

I would make a good hermit, I like to think.
We had a half day of school, and I was invited out to lunch twice by difference coworkers. I begged off and came home instead, using La Petite as an excuse. "She's home for spring break, and I want to spend time with her." Did they know La Petite didn't stand a chance of being awake when I got home?
Instead of a fish fry lunch at a nearby restaurant, I made leftover mac & cheese with a can of Diet Coke with lime. It was perfect.
Next I loaded the crockpot with thin-sliced potatoes, turned it to high, and added a few spices. It'll be scalloped potatoes or a facsimile tonight.
After that, I gathered all the towels and cloth napkins in the house and started a load of laundry.
Then? I settled down on the couch with La Petite (she was awake by that time) and watched Wednesday's American Idol, which we'd recorded for Amigo.

In the 80s, we called it Cocooning. Stay home, curl up in a blanket, read a book, not go out. Lately we've heard about Staycations, but that's not the same thing. Cocooning is being cozy at home, not leaving the house. It's kind of a twenty-first century hermithood. Is that a word?

It is now.

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