We made it to the weekend, but now I’m starting to get antsy again about the physical contract, the numbers, and the actual signing, proving that Josh actually has a job. I know it will come, but I hate moving forward (and spending money) on the promise of a job rather than the sure thing. That’s one thing I learned from military life, nothing is for sure until you see the papers and even then, it can still change.
But some things around here remain the same — like my girlie’s tendency to blow up and then poetically apologize. I didn’t save the note that says, “I’ll hate you until you die” (more like ‘I hat you until you dei’), but here’s the follow-up that I received about 10 minutes later.
One blue pill and 10 minutes later and she was snoozing away the tragedy and injustice that I wouldn’t let her watch TV on her iPad before bed. She has written me more letters in her seven years than all 3 boys combined. Times four.
(And yes, Calvin. You get credit for 90% of those.)