Most people imagine a leisure life as one of relative luxury: Dining at high-class restaurants, driving expensive cars, and taking cruise vacations. To my parents, a true life of leisure is never having to clean the house, polish the silver, find the proper size Tupperware lid, or pair socks.

My parents have leisurely living down to an art. Anything made to cover or protect, such as a camera case or umbrella cover, is seen as a nuisance and discarded immediately. I didn't even know pens had caps until I went away to college. Unpolished silver (the rustic look) is preferred to polished and Tupperware lids are abandoned for one size fits all Saran Wrap. All socks in the house must be black, size 9-13, Gold Toes from K-Mart.

According to my parents, a leisure life is made up of a combination of convenience and procrastination. My mother is the strongest advocate of convenience. For example, my mother only cleans the house when she is expecting guests. This action is typically prompted by my mother looking up from the TV and blurting out, "My God, they'll be here in 10 minutes!" Mom and Dad both jump out of their Lazy-Boys and into action, but even this they do with the utmost economy: by throwing everything into one room with the hopes the guests will not walk into it. The "room option" is a quick and easy way to get rid of unsightly things such as laundry baskets of clothes waiting to be folded, towering piles of junk mail, boxes that need to go "back up into the attic," stacks of papers to be filed, month-old newspapers, the white cat's favorite chair and the hound dog's favorite sofa.

My mother believes that in modern society, convenience is golden, so people shouldn't have to hand-wash anything, whether it be clothes or dishes. She refuses to buy anything that isn't "machine washable," or "dishwasher safe." But Mom has her own idea of what these terms mean. Machine washable includes, but is not limited to: throw rugs, couch pillows, shower curtains, stuffed animals, suede gloves, horse blankets, rain boots, welcome mats and clothing labeled "dry clean only." Dishwasher-safe includes: jars & lids, combs, hair brushes, scrub brushes, Zip-loc bags, beer cans, buckets, scissors, refrigerator shelves, bird cages, vases, figurines, light fixtures and virtually anything else that can be forced to fit into the bottom rack of the dishwasher. My mom is hopeful there will soon be a dishwasher that can unload itself.

Those leading the leisure life should also never have to worry-- until the last minute-- about things such as picking up dry cleaning, sending out Christmas cards or leaving for the airport on time. My dad has procrastination down to such an art that he knows exactly how many minutes it takes to leave the house, start the car and let it warm up, stop to fill the gas tank, stop to eat breakfast and get to the airport just as the announcement is saying, "Last call for Amy Chavez on flight 392; your airplane is ready to taxi down the runway."

Sometimes Dad takes procrastination too far:

Me: Who left the milk out?
Dad: I did. Don't put it away, I'm going to have a glass of milk.
Me: Dad, this milk is warm.
Dad: I like it that way.
Me: Dad, this milk is sour!
Dad: It is?
Me: Dad, this milk has curdled. It looks like it has been sitting here for days!
Dad: Well, I guess you can put it away then.

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