Husbandless

Bill is on a 3 day camping trip with the Young Men in our ward.

We spent yesterday gathering his gear, juggling cars with other YM leaders, doing laundry so he would have clean socks to take (ahem), buying him cliff bars so he wouldn't starve (after all, this isn't Girls Camp), and at the too-soon hour of 8:00 this morning, the three of us stood with pouty frowns and cheek-kisses as we waved goodbye.

I am husbandless.

I hate being husbandless.

No - it's not being husbandless that I hate. It's being Bill-less.

I sorta like beginning and ending (and middling) the day with my very best friend. Plus - we're almost out of black beans and he's the only one who knows how to make those.

And who am I going to play Monopoly with?

No, I do not like being Bill-less one bit.

It's not all bad, though. I do get to spend three days straight with the Monkeyfish and the Hummingbird. And...while Bill is gone, I have plans.

Take out the annoying towel rods and put in hooks in the master bathroom...
Paint that shelf ORANGE...
Replace all the lightbulbs with those energy saving twisty guys (whatarethosecalled?) so that our house doesn't resemble a dank cave when the sun goes down....
Clean out the fridge...the pantry...the closet...
Go through the kids clothes and box up the stuff that no longer fits...
Deep clean the whole house - all so Bill hardly recognizes the place...

...and maybe cut/color my hair so that he hardly recognizes me???

Oh! And dry clean his suit.

(and maybe go through his sock drawer and finally toss all the socks with holes, because contrary to what my man says, they aren't fine!)

Or maybe I'll just allow the whole house to get trashed while I roll around on the floor with my two kids all weekend long.

decisions, decisions.