And on that day...

I was folding laundry at nine o'clock last night, when I found myself reminiscing of a life past.  Of a time when...

• I could watch Oprah any day of the week at 4 o'clock.  Even horizontally aligned, snuggled under a blanket, dozing, if I so desired.
• I had a very clean house.  Crazy clean, by my current standards.  Like, the kind of clean that I might be willing to pay top dollar for right now.  And I didn't even mind cleaning because, hey, what else did I have to do?
• I made fancy dinners and tried all kinds of new recipes that had all kinds of new ingredients.  I didn't mind being in the kitchen.
• I didn't step on a single toy for years at a time, as opposed to hours.
• I looked for things to do.  And often that meant seeing a movie.  Or shopping.  (Or cleaning.) 
• I watched the entire football game on Sunday instead of heading to the store (because that also happens to coincide with nap time and the stores are less crowded because everyone else is at home watching the game).  Oh, and I knew the players names and could even talk about awesome or not-so-awesome plays the next day at lunch.
• I had current music in my collection.
• I exercised 4-6 days per week for at least an hour each day.
• My husband and I enjoyed working on home improvement projects.  And we did them together.  At normal hours of the day.
• I could finish all of the laundry for the week in one day, if I wanted to.
• My house was quiet.

And as I reminisced, I found myself insanely jealous of some of my friends.

And then it hit me.

I will be able to lay on the couch and watch TV at 4 o'clock again someday.
And I will be able to make fancy dinners again someday.
And I won't have very much laundry to do someday.

And my house will be quiet again someday.
Too quiet.

And on that day, I will remember when...