My husband has been traveling for most of the last three weeks. While I have enjoyed sleeping on the lump in the middle of the bed (as opposed to the dents that are usually occupied by our fannies) and watching television into the wee hours (insomnia blows), I am happy he's coming home tonight. Yesterday I was able to join him at the closing dinner dance for his conference at the Disneyland Hotel. What a party!
We have not danced like that together since our first date in 1977 and had a blast. I had to laugh when another conference attendee (and good friend of my husband) teased that he was happy to dance with me, chuckling at Harold's 30+ year old version of the "old man funky chicken" or whatever that was. I think dance lessons are in order for someone. I won't name names. :-) We laughed and danced, then danced more until the band was finished. What a fun reminder to get out of the slump that happens when one has been married for a zillion years. I had hoped to get photographic evidence of his shenanigans, but he was a wild man and I couldn't get the shot in the crowd.
So I've got a lot of work to do to make the house look like I kept up all week. Perhaps I'll pull that stunt of throwing some flour on my face and shirt and spray everything with Windex to make it look like and smell as if I've been slaving away. I guess I'd better turn down the music too. ;-)
Today is a very, very good day.
