Hollywood and the people that produce Sit Com's would have us believe that all married men with children DREAD going home after work. We all want to hit the neighborhood bar on the way home, and delay dealing with the crushing realities which await us on the home front...the nagging wife, the whiny kids, the stack of bills...who want's to go home to that?
Bunk. Drek. I am excited to go home every single day...and my excitement is almost 100% justified. My life isn't perfect, but I think I can count on both hands the number of times my day didn't get better when I go home after work. My children are happy and smiley to see me...my wife is usually bustling away in the kitchen, or doing some last minute tidying. Since I started this job where I am home an later each day than I was in the shipyard, there us usually the smell of dinner to welcome me home. It might not be the 1950's ideal of coming home and having my wife hand me a scotch and help me take off my shoes, but coming home is nice.
Lately, my older daughter has been doing her Girls on the Run Program, and that means on Monday's I am coming home to an empty house, which is somewhat less cool than coming home to hugs and kisses, but usually the cat is at least happy to see me, since he suspects I will feed him shortly after I get home. Occasionally even on Mondays though, there is something special for me to come home to. Today was one of those days.
Waiting for me in the mailbox today was the 176 page Victoria's Secret Holiday catalog.
I can't wait to start Christmas shopping for my wife...she's always impressed by how diligently I look for the best deals for her. Occasionally, she'll even say so...