The Captain has come. And gone. All within about 30 hours time. Sigh. Oh the life of a pilot wife. Just when I think I am used to the coming and going - I'm not. Call it the puking. Call it the snow days. Call it that time of the month. Which it isn't. But you could call it that. I'm tired though. I need a break. I need to wander around aimlessly in a large darpartment store. Anyhoo. Gotta keep keeping on. So the Captain was home long enough to....
...take his wifey out for their Valentine's Day lunch (and she proclaimed the salmon to be good, very good) Thanks, Honey!!
...get thoroughly walluped by his eldest daughter on World 8 in Super Mario Brothers
...have a home cooked meal (does spaghetti count?)
...leave all his stained and stinky leftover take along containers in a pile BY the sink and not IN the dishwasher
...mess up both sides of the bed
....do the paper route with Sweet Marissa while I hung out with my Dad
....get his toes licked by HIS shih-poo mutt who totally disregards and shuns his true caretaker (me) when his Master (The Captain) walks in the door. But I love you anyway Harry.
...read the Princess Maren her bedtime story
...buy the Pilot Wife an impromtu and very unexpected (the washer died and the dryer has been dying a slow and painful death also) Valentine's gift of a new (to me) front loading washer and dryer. This will cover a multitude of sins. And stains. Get it. Stains. Washer. Oh I do need a break. Thanks Honey!!
...remind us to be thankful for a job in this current economy
...snore loudly enough that I need both a break and nap.
Pretty impressive for 30 hours, eh? We will take what we can get. 30 hours is better than none, right? Sigh. See you Sunday, Honey. You did good.