The Mid-life Crisis: A Family Affair?

I think my entire family is experiencing a collective, yet interesting, mid-life crisis.

Husband, who never actually travels on what most would consider an even keel, has recently allowed his hair (what's left of it) to gain the length he once maintained in the early 1970s.

He's taken to muttering about Corvettes under his breath and has begun wearing out his Grateful Dead Cd's. He recently bought himself a truck the size of Rhode Island, has taken to sucking in his stomach while examining himself in the mirror and is suddenly interested in attending every rock concert that comes down the pike.

These little oddities don't disturb me as much and another transformation he's going through. He's suddenly become inordinately interested in the cooking (not merely eating) process, although I suspect that's only his subtle way of telling me he can get it to his mouth faster if he prepares it himself.

He has actually been observed picking up the newspapers usually strewn about the family room, initiating a load of laundry on his own (I didn't even realize he knew where the washer was), and (OK ... once) forsaking the ever-popular myriad of sports-on-demand channels in favor of a - get this - movie. When caught at this last novel exercise, Husband insisted he was just resting his remote-flicking hand, the constant use of which I believe has induced a pesky case of carpal tunnel syndrome.

Becoming proud, but rather unready-to-face-the-inevitable grandparents a few years ago produced extreme anxiety attacks in both of us, although I handled it much better, only attempting to insist the kids refer to me as their aunt in public. Their parents, ungrateful brats that they are, both laughed that one right out of the park. Husband, who got immediately tagged with 'Poppy,' bears the endearment manfully, clenching his jaw in joy every time he's so addressed.