Home Again, Home Again

We were in the airport leaving New Mexico when it seemed to dawn on both me and my beautiful wife that we’d had just about enough of one another.

“Got any cash on you?” She asked as she stood in front of the guy selling pretzels

“You haven’t spent ten bucks on this trip,” I said, as I handed her enough for the pretzel bites.

“You know,” she said, “when we get home we need to go our separate ways for a few days. I’ve spent all but ten minutes with you over the last 5 days. That’s enough.”

She took the money though.

The main problem that she had with me was that every few minutes I would ask:

“Whatcha’ doing?”

(That got on her nerves after the 50th time).

Also, every time we passed a sign for Los Cruces, I recalled the dialogue from the old sitcom, “Wings” and said:

“I don’t live in Los Cruces.”

(That got old too, I guess).

Yet, it was good to be home.

On the morning that we left Melky had a bit of an episode. She could barely move, didn’t even want to pick up her head.

As we flew out, I was broken-hearted. She’s 12 years old.

I didn’t think I’d ever see her again.

The next day, her new full-time caretaker, Sam, texted me:

“Melky just sprinted up the stairs after wolfing down her dinner.”

I almost cried.

When we got home, Melky and the Pair were so damn happy to see me.

I was even kind of fired up to get back to work!

Messages, emails and sites to visit.

Re-energized.

I’ll be fine.

Just have to steer clear of Kathy for a few days.

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