How are you, my dear friends? Why are you still visiting my blog? Does the lack of posts not make you want to slap me up a little bit? Take me off your feed list? Tell me I’m the worst kind of blogger ever? Where’s the consistency? Where’s the commitment? WHERE IS THE PROMISE OF MORE CRIPPLINGLY CUTE PICTURES OF MY ADORABLE SPAWN?

Things have been a little crazy around here. Lokes is going off tomorrow for a week so I’m just blue about that. I hate the stupor I seem to wallow in a week before he takes off, and I’m talking about a husband who used to take off quite a fair bit that he’s earned enough Frequent Flyer points to fly us to Jupiter, first class (wouldn’t that be SO cool?). We’ve been together almost a decade now. Surely, the lovey dovey effervescent piquance of our relationship has fizzled out by now to be replaced by hard, crusty bare tolerance?

And yet.

I’m just a fat old sod sap (apparently, females can’t use the word ‘sod’), whaddya gonna do? I still gulp silently at the sound of his suitcase zipping home. These eyes still well up when I see him walk through the double doors at the airport, all by his lonesome. My poor baby. Flying off a million miles away from me and his kids, one of whom will be bawling her eyes out the moment he steps out of the car, who can guess which one? Did he remember to pack his deodorant? His toothbrush? His comfy old shorts with the hole in the crotch?

“Is it because there’s no one here to help you out?” he asked the other day, after one of my five-minute sighs.

“Why the impud-! How can you even-! The kids need their father! And I really miss you! ” I cried.

He is right, of course. I have grown indolent with my husband’s after-hours help and assistance during the weekends. How ever would I be able to sit my kids in front of the TV all day AND feed them chicken nuggets for breakfast AND dinner?

Seriously, I will miss you. Although I will relish not having to drive you to and from work. And eat braised chicken seven days in a row. And watch Pride and Prejudice again.

Still, I am in the doldrums. I’ll be okay in a few days.

Just remember to get me a nice, juicy gift, ‘s’all.