My husband and I shared a bed last night. Not in the biblical sense, this is a family blog and those are things of which we don't speak.
Andy has been sleeping on the couch downstairs for weeks now.
Remember when I was all, "I LOVE the new school hours, he's always HOME!" and so on? Well, once again, I am dumb.
It's graduate school. It's military graduate school. It's an intense one year military graduate school. It's like he has another family. Hidden in the library. Waiting for him in the conference room. Bringing him coffee at Barnes & Noble.
Oh this new family isn't only getting the best of him. They are also getting the most of him. They even get him every weekend. I bet the new wife is a really good cook and an excellent...accountant.
I fought off the single parenting idea but it's part of sharing your man. Before I accepted it, I spun my wheels in resentment, disillusionment, and the kind of tired that brings dreams of moving in with the retired couple next door. Who are in their 80s. And recovering from knee surgery. Probably not great candidates for floor puzzles and Hair Salon.
We do win him back for one thing, though. Regardless of her penchant for cinnamon buns and pumpkin spice latte, they don't get him for dinner. He sits down with us for at least 30 minutes to eat, hang out, wash a few dishes, and then balefully kiss us goodbye as he heads downstairs to be with them until 1 on the morning. That hussy accountant and her silent offspring, I bet she even lets him watch Bill O'Reilly in bed with her.
Hmph. I think I'll make him steak and potatoes for dinner tonight. A little something to remember us by.