Small faces

So while I was chatting a mile minute about both appropriate (feelings, siblings, parents, work, husbands) and inappropriate (wiener glitter, sex, men we don't find hot at all, how stripper dollar bills are probably slimy and smell dodgy) this weekend, my fabulous husband manned the fort and was fabulous.

I mentioned yesterday having some nervous tummy about leaving them and the worry fell into two camps.

Camp One: I haven't been away from Ezra overnight since I went to a work conference three years ago and then, a few months later, in the hospital for the Sneak Attack Birth. I haven't been away from Iris since she came home from the hospital. I would miss them them a lot. Maybe I would feel sad.

Camp Two: Our housecleaner came on Friday. T is all very devil-may-care about crumbies and whatnot. Would I need to burn the house down upon arriving home on Sunday?

Well, I diiiiiidn't really miss the family like I thought I would and the house was clean. Color me shocked on both levels. 

I was very happy to be home to see my favorite brown faces on Sunday afternoon and it was nice to feel missed by T. Ezra and Iris, honestly, seemed a bit indifferent. Ah well.

T even took them to the public museum.

Oh, dimples.