All this week, Jamey has been out of town for business.
It’s always funny when he leaves and gives me the house to myself. For the first couple days, I am usually good at finding entertainment: I have time to watch all the t.v. shows and movies I have been wanting to watch (although I never got around to The Last Song like I meant to…bummer), the opportunity to throw my clothes everywhere, maybe not wash all the dirty dishes in the sink at once, and have ample time to do loads of laundry. Girls’ nights feel like they can last all evening, since I only return to an empty house, and later evening shopping excursions give me an excuse to get out and buy just what I don’t really need. (I may or may not have bought this scarf tonight…I am my mother’s daughter.)
That’s not to say Jamey pressures me to do any of the above chores or chains me to the kitchen sink when he’s home. (Or does he?) But our evening hours together are precious, since he’s not a night owl and sometimes likes to do his own thing. That’s fine, and I always respect it; I know we need our space and different activities here and there to relax and take our mind off of a long day’s work.
However, hours spent doing loads of laundry and dishes are not ever appealing (for the obvious reasons and others). I’d always rather spend time with him, no matter the activity. Evenings with Jamey are always a time of day that I wish lasted as long as some work days feel like.
But come Thursday after a business trip, I am always ready for his return. Even if it means that he makes fun of me constantly, like this…
…then nights sitting at home and mocking each other are the only evenings I need.