Alone

Baby Daddy went on a fishing trip this weekend. I sent Monkey Boy to his Grandparents. Even Katy Kat was out of town for a wedding. All of my chickens flew the coup. It. was. fabulous.

My bed. But for trips to the kitchen and to bathe myself, my location for the weekend.

For 48 straight hours, I was alone. By myself. No one to take care of. I slept until I woke up and took naps when the urge hit. No one to consult about meals. I ate whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. No one to consider but me for two whole days. For the record, I did shower.

Make no mistake, I love being Mother Hen around here. I really like it when all my people are under my roof. I like to take care of them. But it takes a lot out of me to do that. Contrary to popular belief, I am an introvert. Being around others all the time absolutely wears me out. I need time alone to recharge.

Fortunately, Baby Daddy understands this about me. When he was packing for his trip, I tried on his new waders for a laugh. I was slogging around the house being totally absurd and a thought hit me. “Would you like me to be the kind of wife who wants to go on trips like this with you?” He didn’t even really blink, “No, not really.” We both exhaled, and I gave both our sentiments voice, “Good.”

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