Things you don't tell your husband until he gets home from his business trip

My husband left town this afternoon for some work related training. He'll be gone a week. Shortly before bedtime this evening, while standing in the kitchen trying to decide if he did or did not want a bowl of cantaloupe, our two year old started crying. When I asked why he was crying he wailed, "I want my Daddy." I righted the ship for him by giving him a lick of the strawberry mish mash I was whipping up in the blender to use to make Popsicles. But still.

P.S. Why in the name of all that's right in the world am I trying to make my own popsicles? Do I have nothing better to do with my time? This is what happens when you take a week off from work and completely neglect your blog for months on end. You start to think stupid crap like how today is the first day of the rest of your life. And then you ponder canceling your cable so everyone in the house will start reading more. Except then you remember the new season of Project Runway just started so maybe you'll just try the popsicle recipe you read in that magazine on the plane last week instead. The recipe involved vanilla yogurt and strawberries. I flung some water in and forgot to defrost the strawberries. We'll see how it goes.

P.S.P.S. If you are my mother, I swear I'm going to upload my vacation photos soon. I know. You're waiting patiently. But I had to make popsicles.

P.S.P.S.P.S. The best thing about coming home from a week long vacation is sleeping in your own bed. But the second best thing is watching a recorded Project Runway and then getting to watch another brand new episode two days later. Speaking of which, seriously, why is Stella still there? Gag me. I'm currently riding the "I love Kenley" parade float. Although Leanne's skirt was so elegant it baffles the mind she didn't win. Enough.