If my next several posts come across as the ravings of a lunatic that would be because we just waved goodbye to daddy. Who will be gone all week. Back Saturday evening. Do the math--I am now outnumbered 2 to 1.
Someone please explain this to me. I have been shot at from across an airfield. I have been caught in the middle of riots. I've even witnessed the running of the bulls. And I've ridden a motorcycle on I10. Yet somehow, I am more terrified of being all by myself with two little ones for the week than I was of any of those things. Or maybe it's the fact that it now falls on me to clean out the cat's box.