home again

I've just returned from a week away . The beloved husband and pooch are gone, for a walk I suppose. Its been cloudy and rainy for weeks, and at 6:00 p.m. the sun is shining, illuminating the newly sprung leaves with a flourescent green flourish. Who could blame them for not waiting for my ride to deposit me on our doorstep?

Walking around the house is like uncovering a crime scene. Or a very small frat party. Empty beer bottles: check. Empty fridge: check. A vase full of spent tulips from our dinner party a week ago, yellow shards of petal strewn across the buffet table: check. What have these poor boys been doing in my absence? What have they eaten? The lack of food, liquid or solid, in this house is disturbing. Not that they've starved, mind you. The hubby is famous for his instant meals, a bowl of popcorn will do just fine, thank you very much. And to his credit, he cooks up a very mean pizza, from scratch!

Perhaps hubby has paid a visit to the very wierd ice cream man that lurks around our neighborhood with alarming regularity. His truck trolls the streets blaring a recorded playground tune that I can never quite name. Reminds me of the creepy chitty chitty bang bang lollipop peddling pedophile that gave me and my sister nightmares as a kid.

So, home again. Maybe if I was a Marthaclone, I'd have made a stash of freezer-ready meals to sustain him in my absence. Luckily for me, he is a model of self-reliance. A minimalist, happy when I feed him some home-cooked goodness, but just as happy to dine alone, bowl of Special K in hand.

I can't wait to whip up a meal for my boys and give them lots of carbohydrate hugs.