Wednesday, August 23, 2006


Last night handsome hubby got home from Canada. Yay. Both boys were in bed, asleep. Yay again. He was exhausted. By the time he hauled all his schtuff in from the car, just about all he could do was shove the leftover dinner I'd saved for him down his piehole, brush his teeth and fall into the bed, yakking the whole time about customs forms, airport security, and Montreal's weather. So after getting eyesful of his two sleeping boys he crawls into the bed, props up and says "What'd I miss?".

"Thought you were sleepy," I returned. "You've been gone two days and we have two boys. This could take hours." He knew I was kidding.

I threw him a bone. In his heart he didn't want to hear mundane goings on from the days he was gone. He wanted to hear comfort, he wanted a couple of warm fuzzies to fill up his ears before he went to sleep and he wanted me to know he cared what happened while he was gone. For someone who can't hear well, he hears better than most.

I have a dear friend in Texas whom I've never met. She's the same way. Can't hear with her ears but my my my she listens better than most of us whose ears work just fine.

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