My husband arrived home on Monday afternoon after an 8-day work trip to Texas/Mexico.
By lunchtime, I was starting to get antsy, watching the clock and wishing the day away like a labrador wishing for a dropped steak.
When I heard the gate latch squeak, I leaped off the couch with a sleeping Pickle clutched in my arms, and ran to open the door. I woke the baby, but at that moment, I didn’t mind.
The smile on Tiny’s face was priceless, and the silent hug for his daddy made me melt. The smile on Tall’s face showed how happy he was to be home, and he accepted every hug with tired joy.
This morning, Tiny was pretending to fly a plane and was distributing out daddy’s tickets from his trip.
I asked if I could be his co-pilot, which was responded to with a very resounding, “No you CAN’T!”
Then Tall asked if he could be the co-pilot, to which Tiny replied, “No! You CAN’T be my Cocoa Pop pilot!”
Love having all my boys with me again.
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