I left for work this morning knowing I’d be rushing home eleven hours later just in time to kiss my baby goodnight.
What I should have known was that eleven hours would turn into more than twelve. This is a rare occasion in my current work life, so I won’t complain. I was sad not to find my boy waiting for me at the front door though. Instead, here are a few of the things I did find when I stepped into my house and slipped off my heels.
A baby sleeping soundly … apparently after a few minutes of reassuring himself that “it not scary, it not scary.” (He woke up crying last night and reported bad dreams about a “mobot” [i.e. robot].)
A husband rushing down the stairs, ready to run out the door to defend his Rock ‘n Roll Trivia title and help cash in his team’s $100 bar tab prize.
Half of a Jersey Mike’s sub in the fridge. Necessary. The Pumpkin Spice Moonshine I sampled earlier was delicious, but not a suitable dinner.
Last night’s The Rachel Zoe Project on the DVR.
Spiderman scaling the mantel.
2 days ago