When it comes to The Man, I'm not really an absence makes the heart grow fonder sort of person but more of an absence makes me want to pull out your heart, stab it with long knives and tap dance on it type of person. In case you're wondering, my favorite tap dance move is falling off the log which I do to the great effect of really looking like I am indeed falling off a log.
So after two weeks of not seeing him at all, I was ready to throw in the dish towel, punch him in the face, ignore him, and generally disregard him. (Yes, it was merely two weeks of limited sightings that were all fraught with grouchiness (from him obviously because I (yes I did just put a parenthetical thought within another parenthetical thought and now that I've started I could do this indefinitely) am always nice) but I'm a little on the over-dramatic side.)
Last night, the boys and I picked him up from work at midnight (after his 14 hour day) and made a quick trip to the grocery store. By one, the boys were tucked in and sleeping and our glorious weekend had started.
As is usually the case when I haven't seen him in the while, we had a great conversation that occasionally bubbled into an argument and I'm sure I cried a couple times because I'm prone to do that.
He's here now, and I've remembered that I actually like him so I'm going to just stare at his face for the entire weekend. Well, at least for today because tomorrow he has to go in to work and prep fancy shit for wine dinners and I have to go out for my Monday night festivities-to-guard-my-sanity (it's a new feature in my life).
But at least for today, I'm going to stare at his sweet face and follow him around like a lost puppy. We might even throw bits of dead pig at each other. I'm an dead pig round one so it's time to walk to the kitchen, flip some pancakes and cook some sausage.