BY JEN SPYRA
The print copy of THE NEW YORKER March 7, 2016
JEAN JULLIEN
As all New Yorkers know, the best section
in the New York Times bar none is the “Sunday Routine.” . . . Seems like everyone does pretty
much the same stuf on Sunday. So what makes
the “Sunday Routine” section so fascinating?
—Gawker.
Up and at ’em: My day starts at
seven, when our dog, Percival, and
our kids, Madisonaddison and Andersoncooper, jump into bed with us. Percival is a Pigapoo, which is a very rare
breed. It’s a cross between a Shih Tzu
and a pig. Percival has breathing problems, because he’s an afront to God’s
plan and isn’t supposed to exist, so we
have to be very careful when we’re
roughhousing with him, or he’ll sufocate and we’ll have to introduce our
kids to the concept of death.
BREAKFAST IN BED: On Sundays,
we throw all our healthy habits out the
window and really indulge, so it’s nothing but salami, doughnuts, and vegetable oil. Brian, my husband, makes the
meanest salami-doughnut-vegetable oil slop.
BREAKING A SWEAT: I like to get exercise out of the way in the morning
so I can relax for the rest of the day.
Right now, I’m completely obsessed
with the Dock Method, which is this
thing where you work on the docks for
a few hours, tossing cargo into shipping holds, and they pay you $6.75 an
hour. The guys in my class are super
ripped, which is very motivating.
CULTURE CLUB: After we’ve had our
breakfast and moved around a little,
we like to do something culturally enriching as a family, so usually it’s of to
the Met to stroll through the vaults
where they keep the stolen Nazi art.
We have a platinum membership, which
gets you into all the chambers.
UNPLUG AND UNWIND: We’ve recently started doing this thing where
we totally disconnect for a few hours,
and it’s been really liberating. No cell
phones, no iPads, no laptops, nothing.
We don’t even use language. We limit
ourselves to vowel sounds and grunts,
and just get back in touch with our
primal selves, roaming around the
apartment, pissing and shitting at will,
and foraging for scraps of salami.
Heaven.
GENDER CHECK-IN: We don’t want
the kids to be influenced by us or by
society or by anybody when it comes
to choosing their genders, so we’re giving them time to decide, and they’re
still thinking about it. We don’t want
their decision to be influenced by the
genitals that they happened to be born
with, so we keep them dressed in
breathable-cotton chastity belts, and
as soon as they decide their genders
we’ll take them of so they can see which
sex organs they have. They’re only sophomores, so we’ve still got time before
the big college search.
GROCERY SHOPPING: Sometimes, in
the afternoon, we’ll go grocery shopping for the week. Get milk, eggs, bread.
Stuf like that.
drop IN ON SECRET FAMILY: I’ll
check in with my secret family for a
few hours—make sure the heat’s on,
that there are groceries in the fridge,
that kind of thing.
PERCIVAL’S P.T.: Because Percival is
such a special breed, he has several genetic defects. For example, he was born
without legs. Brian takes him to physical therapy at a wonderful vet we’ve
been going to for years, and he’ll practice strengthening his neck so that he
can pull himself forward.
TAKE EVERYONE IN A PEDIATRIC
ONCOLOGY WARD TO SEE “HAMILTON”:
Nothing makes you feel more grateful
to be alive than popping into a pediatric oncology ward, saying, “Come on,
everybody!,” and whisking all the patients away to see the hit Broadway
musical “Hamilton.” Even though many
of the children are terminal cases, they
can still heed Alexander Hamilton’s tip
to not waste their shot with the time
they’ve got left.
DINNER: On Sunday nights, we like
to take it easy and stay in, so Brian will
do something simple, like take some
olive oil, salt, and lemon and sprinkle
it on a huge pile of salami, doughnuts,
and vegetable oil.
ODDS AND ENDS: When the dishes
are done, I’ll catch up on e-mail, help
the kids with their homework, and see
if any of my bids on Nazi-plundered
art have come through.
WATCH “KINGPIN”: We’ll watch
“Kingpin” a couple of times. Once for
laughs, and once more to appreciate
the craft.
BEDTIME: After a glass of liquid
melatonin, a few minutes of meditation, some gentle stretching, and a Motrin 800, I’m out like a light.
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