It’s Friday. On Fridays I have dinner with my parents. Ever since Edmund and I moved to Westbrook in 2005, I have spent almost every Friday at my parents house for dinner. This was great help for us when we first moved, because we didn’t get jobs right away, so a guaranteed meal once a week was helpful. Nowadays Edmund often works later on Fridays, and I go to dinner by myself.

What happens at a Friday dinner at the Maheux’s? First comes the call:

“You coming over?” says Dad

“Planning on it,” I say.

“Good. ’bout 5:30?” he asks.

“Yup, thereabouts,” I answer.

Sometimes I’m earlier or later, but I am usually there at 5:30. When we first moved here, Dad had Fridays off and he usually cook. When Mom was still working but Dad wasn’t, he’d always cook. Now that they are both retired, they take turns, well, mostly Mom cooks.

I am not told what we are having for dinner. Especially when Dad cooks. He likes to surprise us.

During nice weather we eat outside, Mom loves the sun.

If Edmund can’t make it, he gets a “to go” meal of whatever we’re having. Sometimes it’s enough to make him two meals. He works on Saturdays, so it’s usually very appreciated.

A rare dinner at a real restaurant.

We don’t always eat at my parent’s house. Sometimes we meet at the Mall and eat at the food court. Sometimes we eat at a restaurant. But most of the time we eat at their house in Westbrook. Sometimes we do something else.

At Westbrook Together Days last June.

And this photo makes up for the dork photo I posted last week (sorry Mom!):

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Do you have any family rituals?