The Confucian saint

We left Cape Cod yesterday and are heading to New Jersey to see the husband’s family. On route, we stopped in Mystic, Connecticut, (site of the movie “Mystic Pizza”) and took a really nice boat ride down Mystic River. Ok, if I was single and/or in my twenties, it would have been incredibly boring, but things change when you have kids. You find yourself on a lot of excursions with retirees for some reason, especially when you’re vacationing.

Now that we are on the road again, my husband is in what one of my sisters (my follower, Emcy) calls his “clipped bark mode”. In clipped bark mode, he –you guessed it—speaks in a clipped bark in order to get things moving in an orderly and timely fashion. He has no time for nonsense. And clipped bark mode is heightened when his plan involves his family. So, you can imagine the scene this morning, trying to get three kids out to the car and the room packed, so that we can leave to have lunch with his dad and then dinner with his uncle. A lot of barking is going on.

I actually really appreciate that he is so devoted to his parents. It’s an ordered devotion, too: he loves them, but is not at their beck and call. He has what Confucius called “filial piety”, which for the any follower of Confucius, is considered a virtue: respecting your parents is really important.

Well, that’s my philosophical spin on this leg of our trip: my husband, the Confucian saint.