The other night, before we went out of town, Blanket woke me up at midnight. This is not normal, but I dealt with the problem and went back to bed. As I was laying there hoping to find sleep again I heard the cars on the nearby road. I heard them click-clack as they sped over the seams in the concrete. I thought about how midnight has changed.
When I was a kid midnight was a milestone. If you were allowed to stay up that late, it was great. If you made it to midnight, that was an accomplishment.
When I was a young teenager, midnight was late, and meant that I had lots of homework.
After 16, midnight was when your date was supposed to end, or when you started to think about going home.
At 19 it became the time that I often got off work. It was dinner time.
I didn't see any of midnight on my mission. It was in the great "NO" zone.
After I got married, midnight became this place I rarely saw. I met it now and then with friends, or after a great movie. Midnight was no longer an accomplishment, now it was an unseen acquaintance.
Once the kids were born, midnight became a place I visited in a state of semi-conciousness. I only see it if cries awake me, or sleep escapes me.
Midnight is no longer when I get off work and start my evening. Midnight is not a signal to start winding down the fun. For me the fun happens all day, and midnight marks 6 hours until the fun begins again.
Am I old? mature? a fuddy-duddy? or just in a place where midnight should never be seen?