Still no nothing.

Sometimes I feel bad that men have to be men and they can’t tap into our minds to see what we really mean when we say things like, “I hate it here I hate it here I hate it here I hate it here!”

What I really mean is, “I hate it here WITHOUT YOU.”

My poor husband. Today he drove the last leg of his cross country trip and kept calling at the absolute worst moments: First call, playing Monopoly with Harry (is it legal to spend Monopoly money on the Sabbath?) he called right when the girls and the dog ran under the card table and upset the game.

Second call, just as I was gently depositing June in her room for trying to break off the fridge door (remember all those doors she destroyed in my German house?) my phone rang and Georgia picked up, giving him a front row ear.

Third call came right in the middle of my Mommy Time-Out when I was mentally  monologuing, which then became a verbal monologue. I know he meant well when he kept interrupting to point out how blessed we are to have Air Conditioning and four healthy kids and a dog who loves me, but what I really needed were cooing noises. Just hmm and ooh at me a little. Maybe throw in a “baby, you’re so skinny” now and then.

I finally told him that we were having a One conversation and he quickly changed tactics. It really helped. By the time I was done I felt so much better. Who needs furniture to sit on? Pictures to collect dust? Hangers? Dressers? A Repentance Bench?

He’s right. I do have four kids (and a dog) that really love me and since he’s gone I’m allowed to blast the AC to my little heart’s content.

I’ve really got to stop writing until my stuff comes.