When Craig gets home from work in the evening, he usually finds the kids and me waiting for him at the end of the driveway. I wave and smile, the kids jump up and down… it’s all very Normal Rockwell. Craig thinks it’s sweet. The neighbors think it’s sweet. It is kind of sweet.
But here’s what nobody knows:
We meet Craig at the end of the driveway because I cannot wait another three minutes to pass off the children.
I’ve watched through the front window when he arrives home and seen how he dawdles in the car before getting out, inches to the mailbox, stops to pet every passing puppy, and then creeps up to the front door with little teeny baby steps. Let’s just say it’s a bit slower process than he employs when he runs out the door to leave for work in the morning.
So, welcome home, honey! Hugs. Kisses. Here are your three beautiful children. No, no, don’t worry about the mail, I’ll get it. Just hurry on inside.
I’M ON TO YOU, MISTER.