I never know where my phone is.
If I do know where it is, I don’t really know where it is. It just means someone just handed it to me.
The good thing is I usually lose it in my house. I’m cautious and responsible outside of the house but apparently, I’m not house-broken in this area.
So, it wasn’t surprising when my oldest daughter received a call from my husband on his quick run to the grocery store.
“Hello?” She fidgets a bit on the couch with the phone plastered to one ear and her other hand holding the remote. She paused and my husband began to speak.
“Where’s your mom?” It's obvious he’s aware that I’m not near my phone or lost it again.
“Um…” She tilts her chin up to get a better view of the answer to this question.
“Can you hear me? Is she doing something?” He must be in the check-out line because the urgency in his voice makes Serenity sputter a bit as she responds.
“Um Daddy… She’s cleaning the ceiling,” The smirk in her voice is obvious. She is sure that matter-of-factly describing me standing on a ladder to clean a spot on the ceiling would jar him to give her a response. In these budding teenage years, she lives for reactions from Dad. To be fair, he is very animated. He is a show in and of itself.
“Ok. Well, just ask her if she wants green or red apples.”
I see my daughter sit straight up and throw the remote on the cushion next to her. She gasps, “What? Did you hear what I said?” Her little eyebrows are knitted an amused yet confused spiral across her forehead.
“Oh yeah, not surprising. I know my wife. Just ask her what apples she wants and call me back.” She pulls back the phone to stare at it. With a pause, she snickers with a broad smile.
These stories are great and just one of the many that happen on Tribe Day. Tribe Day is the day after Thanksgiving in our household where we truly just be together. We let the weird, funny, happy moments just roll unequivocally.
My husband and I created this day as a way to make a tradition for our tribe that is easy, fun, and all our own. We also wanted to make fanfare for the impending Christmas season, while keeping the sweet difference of Thanksgiving separate. Yeah, we are one of those families.
As we started to have children, we called our little family a tribe, and it stuck. Now we label everything with “tribe” right in front of pretty much anything, including this tradition.
The rules are simple.
On Black Friday, affectionately known to us as Tribe Day, we get up lazily and no one cooks, does dishes, or even changes out of pajamas.
Usually, I have strict rules of getting up to START the day on any other given day. START is an acronym for shower, teeth, appearance and armpits, room check, and tidy. My kids and husband know this all too well.
Usually, I’m the most persistent sergeant in barking these reminders, but on Tribe Day, I have no bellowing reminders. It’s just a day together, where they just might remember making fun of me for cleaning the ceiling.
Or I may be horizontal with more pecan pie than I should have, reminding me of my Texas roots. We’ve had this tradition since my oldest was 4 years old and now, 10 years later, it's sweeter than I could have ever imagined.
Election Day is functionally here. Veterans Day is pending. Thanksgiving is on deck. We have all these conversations and reminisce on the frenzy of the beginning of fall.
But, we will do all of that in our pajamas, eating dessert for breakfast, ignoring my lost phone, and finding more spots on the ceiling for me to clean.
I love our tribe. Cheers to you and yours!
Diamone Ukegbu is a local Little Haiti artist, creative, teacher, mom and wife who is in the throes of raising three children while trying to keep her sanity.
