My husband is gone.
Abandoned me with a bad back and three and a half children.
It's 7:35. The kids are in bed. We made Valentine hearts. They're taped all over our windows and I adore them. But I'm still completely alone.
My first instinct is: to eat.
But since I don't want to be a fatty fatty fat fat, I resort to my second and third instincts:
Watch TV and surf the interwebs.
Thank you Netflix. Thank you handy laptop.
And tonight when I crawl into our empty, cold bed, I'll stretch out and pretend I love it. But I really, really hate it when he's gone.