What, exactly, is the correct thing to say to one's husband when his airplane lands after 10 days away and the first words you hear over the phone are "I just puked my way from Frankfurt to Dulles"?
Yeah. So as happy as I am to have Big Daddy T back in the country with us, the weekend did not go exactly according to plan. First, he missed his initial flight out of the Czech Republic and had to take a later one to Frankfurt, pushing his arrival home from 3pm to 9pm. Which was fine, really, because the boys slept in the car most of the way to the airport as well as home again.
What was not so fine were the events of the next 48 hours. No, indeed.
But today he is back at work, the boys are back in their regular routine, and I am - at last - looking forward to a bit of down time as we head to Amish country for my birthday this weekend. I'll be 29 on Saturday.
Posting the rest of this week will likely be sporradic at best as I attempt to dig out from under the massive chaos around the house. I will, however, be uploading some new photos. So there's that to look forward to.
Try to contain your excitement, aye?
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