At first, I embraced my husband's absence at home. I could watch whatever I wanted on TV after the kids went to bed. I could sleep smack in the middle of the bed (or pile up a bunch of stuff on his side and simply leave it there overnight for lack of ambition to put it away). There's been no argument over the thermostat.(I discovered life above the 60-degree mark is oh-so comfortable!)

Yes, I enjoyed a little time to myself. But, then I moved into the annoyed phase — especially since our children have moved into a phase of their own, one in which they are constantly trying to kill each other. I was in need of some refereeing assistance.

My sweet hubby embarked on a two-week hunting trip and family visit to Kansas on Nov. 5 and returned Nov. 21. Let me just say, it was a loooooong couple of weeks.

A few days before his scheduled departure from Kansas, we had this odd conversation about his homecoming.
Me: "So when are you leaving?"
Him: "Saturday morning."
Me: "Oh, do you think you could leave Friday, instead?"
Him: "Yeah, Saturday."
Me: "Hmm, OK, I was asking if you could leave any earlier than that, like maybe Friday."
Him: "Yep, first thing Saturday morning."
Me: "OK then."

Whatever.

We were overjoyed to discover he had arrived home while we were at church Sunday morning having driven practically straight through the 1,600-mile stretch. We kissed hello and talked a bit before retreating to our respective to-do lists for the day. Guess things are back to normal.