My bags were in the trunk. All evidence of my weekend away neatly packed and stowed.
After a kiss hello, I asked, "How was it?"
I wanted him to be beaten down.
I wanted him to sigh with relief at my return.
I wanted him to drop to his knees and french kiss the ground I walk on.
But he did none of those things.
"It was a breeze," he said.
"A breeze? Come on."
"No. Really," he confirmed and then had the nerve to add, "In fact, it was...easier."
It took all the impulse control I had to not haul off and smack him. This man I love. I mean, really. This is the thanks I get?!
I wanted to get back on the plane. Fly back to my girls. To people who appreciated my company. Laughed at my jokes. Complimented my hair AND my outfits. (Please read the rest of my post at LA Moms Blog by clicking here).
2 Comments:
GREAT post. I commented over there.
Men, it was probably just easy because he doesn't do it every freaking day. Going to read the rest
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