Dec 14, 2009

And They Lived to Tell the Tale...

So, we all know I was away this week-end.
We all know I, usually, avoid leaving the farm at all costs.
We know I don't leave my family if I can help it.
We know I am quickly becoming a Hermit.

But... This week-end was a week-end so full of wonderfulness that I couldn't pass it up!
So, I left my family and flew to New Orleans.

The Man-of-My-Dreams was home to hold down the fort.
I'm not gonna say I wasn't a little bit worried,
I'm not gonna say I wasn't a little bit homesick,
I'm not gonna say I didn't call home every chance I got.

Especially when The Little-Foreman-in-Pink came down with a fever the night I left.
Especially when I heard (and saw the pictures) of the 4inch very dirty and rusty nail that the Man-of-My-Dreams impaled his forearm on.
Especially when I remembered that I forgot to order a propane delivery and my family was out of gas to keep them warm.

Each of these things could have ruined my week-end of crazy-goodness.
But....
It did not.

The Man-of-My-Dreams had it all under control.
He medicated the little sick one,
He kept her all snuggled down in "Daddy's Bed" with cartoons,
He cooked nutritious meals for the family,

He cleaned his deep puncture wound,
He soaked his arm in Epsom Salts,

He got the propane truck out to the farm at sunrise,
He kept the children on task,
Chores were finished,
The house was clean,

No one died!
No one was mangled (well... except for him!)

They did just fine without me...

...that's a good thing, right?

and it means I am a very lucky lady!
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2 amazing comments. Talk To Me!!:

sue said...

This is all well and good. Buy how are you after your, "graceful" moment on your trip? No lasting problems I hope.

Anonymous said...

I should be so lucky. I went to the Bayou Country to visit a girlfriend for a week and when I came back, my house was a complete disaster. Nothing done, a dirty husband, panicked pets, weeds growing in the driveway.

Next time, I'll leave a detailed list or take him with me. This just didn't work.

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