My husband has been out-of-town this week on business…if Orlando can really be called “business.”
But I’m not bitter…I swear.
In case you were wondering, when I travel for business, I end up in places people have never heard of; I think that the life of public service is never going to land me in the likes of Orlando.
He gets world-class resorts, and I get aging Holiday Inns. Not that I’m jealous or anything.
But, as predicted, I digress….
He’s been gone for nearly a week now, and I think I’ve reached my limit of two yahoo boys, a quirky hundred year-old house and my ineptitude with the wine opener.
Today, I recognized five signs that it’s past time from that clown to get his behind back in the Bayou state:
- I forgot to brush and style my oldest boy’s hair this morning, and the poor kid went to school looking like he got beat in the head with a weed-wacker. What can I say? That’s my husband’s job, so I can’t be blamed for subjecting the poor kid to the curious stares of those who probably wonder if I am off some medication. I’ll just chalk it up to more fodder for therapy later.
- I have been startled by so many strange noises that I almost called the police when my ice-maker kicked on. Furthermore, how sad is it that I took a full ten minutes to discern that the noise in question was, in fact, the ice maker, and not some mythical horror movie boogey-man?
- I am so bored that I’m watching reruns of shows I am way too embarrassed to confess I’m actually watching. My brain is turning into Swiss cheese as we speak.
- I’ve taken to hiding in the bathroom, because I need a break from prying apart my boys, as they have their 567th argument of the day.
- I actually entertained the notion that a few spoonfuls of Nutella was a nutritious enough meal for dinner.
Clearly, we are descending into madness…Thankfully, he will be home tomorrow…