Please remind me never to take a red-eye flight again. Also, encourage me to exercise more and eat less cheese. And ask me when was the last time I had my cholesterol checked. I will behave as if I want you to shut up, but inside, in a place even I don't even know about, I will be grateful.
Speaking of grateful, I am back home with my beloveds. The maddening thing about visiting a family with a boy who is as adorable as your own is that said boy WILL NOT LET YOU CUDDLE WITH HIM. Because you're a "stranger." Because he "doesn't know you." Because you "creep him out." Apparently seven-year-olds do not enjoy the visitor who chases them around, growling JUST LET ME TOUCH YOUR HAIR. Lesson learned. And now I am back and busy mauling my son, who may be the most lovable creature alive. When he pushes me off of him I climb all over Scott, who is hoping this new appreciation of my family never wears off. Sadly, we all know it will.
Within moments of my arrival, Charlie glued his nose to my jeans and figured out that I had been unfaithful. I told him that the other dog was a girl, and that I thought that made it okay. But I don't think he'll ever look at me the same way again.