Tomorrow I leave for out of town and, while I'm looking forward to the trip in some respects, I'm also filled with dread. I know it's sad to admit this, but I've only been away from the kids once in last two years. And during that time I was miserable and called to check on them every two minutes. It's sad.
At least on that trip I had my wife to keep me grounded. Being as I'm traveling alone, with a cell phone, I fear I'll be calling every few minutes. "What did Gert say five minutes ago? Did Matilda get an A on her math test? Let me talk to the dog."
Look. I'm a homebody. I'm not adventurous. And I like my family. I know that makes me uncool. I know I'm supposed to be like most of the other parent bloggers who lament everything they've lost because they squirted out a pup or two. But me, well, I can't think of a single thing I've lost or regretted (except giving Gert the cup of hot chocolate she once promptly vomited up). In fact, my life is enhanced. Music is better, has more meaning. I've found a new obsession that was ignited not by a friend or a magazine article or because it's cool but because my three-year-old daughter has an interest.
So even though I'm only going to be gone from Friday morning until very late on Saturday (I'll leave while they're sleeping and come home while they're sleeping), I'm going to miss the little bastards. And I'm going to buy a lot of guilt presents.
Plus, I have to figure out what to do about the two dead fish my neighbor gave me.
Don't worry. My wife will explain.
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