It’s ten-thirty in the morning and my house smells like toast and sounds like a nap. Standing on the driveway in bare feet, I wave at JG as he leaves in his truck for the airport. Delaware is the lucky state tonight. He’ll be back tomorrow. Before the kids go to bed. This week will be as close as we get to normal.
The bed clothes smell like hair and dog feet. We barely moved away from the king-sized island for snacks and diet cokes as the pages turned on the weekend’s story. Ladybug spent the duration of it at her dad’s house soaking up all the splendor a grandpa’s visit had to offer and Sam grew inches during record breaking naps and full nights of uninterrupted slumber. My husband and I were naked a lot. Our blinds open in the morning and closed at night. The pillows got tired of our heads. The sheets grew annoyed at our mischief.
We rediscovered kissing with a purpose and had whole conversations while showering. He thinks I look pretty in yellow. I want to visit my father in Arlington National Cemetery.
He wants to have another baby.