my husband was 37 minutes late coming home today… yes, i mark the minutes and think about stuff like car accidents. i mean it DID occur to me that he may have stopped for coffee, but that was not enough to stop the rumbling rolling train of my worries. as the moments go on, i begin picturing blood and carnage as he lays dying in a terrible wreck. i picture myself kicking the crap out of the police officer that comes to the door to tell me he’s dead. i imagine immediately commiting hari kari, as i won’t be able to continue life without him. i heard sirens going by that sounded like they stopped nearby.. i went stalking up the road to see if i could spot the carnage. my husband drives around the corner and i flag him down and start ripping a strip off him for not calling. turns out that i was the only bad thing that happened to him this afternoon.. giggle my period is also 37 minutes late, i may be pregnant

That wifey test actually made me feel bad. I mean I know i’m not the ‘classic’ wife, but i do consider myself a catch because i’m so kind and smart and stuff. Though I WISH I could cook. My husband does the cooking, not the way a woman would, mostly when we are desperately hungry or when he feels like it. Anyway, it’s so heavenly when my husband cooks, i mean he makes me feel like i’m home, and loved and taken care of, all in one fell swoop… aaaah the smells. the tastes… I wish I had that power. to make him feel so good. I call him my food angel. that’s MY man!!