It's Good to Have you Back where you Belong

Tayler spends the summer's in San Diego with her dad. A whole 2.5 - 3 months of sand, surf and sun. Livin the good life, spoiled rotten by grandma, uncle B and aunt M, while Ross and I, back here in Florida, enjoy our new found freedom by running around naked and aimlessly like wild banshees (I don't know what the means).
















It's nice..for a little while. Everyone needs a break (of that kit kat bar) every now and then, and it makes us appreciate each other that much more, right? Towards the end though, or last 1.5-2 months (Ok, after about two weeks), the novelty wears off, I don't know what to do with myself, and Ross and I have nobody to focus our deeply ingrained (that probably only pertains to me, as I have 10 years experience to Ross's 2) parental instinct or subconscious need to discipline, and start to turn on each other.


Example

*After I throw a pile of clothes on top of a sleeping Ross, that he left in the dryer for 2 days.....*


R: ummmm...those clothes aren't going to fold themselves.


D: No, the certainly aren't....you are.


R: naaaaa ahhhhh....I'm the man of the house, you're the woman..plus, I'm the one who had to wash them!


D: Congratulations for successfully operating the washer and dryer for the first time in the two years we have lived together..


R: Fold my clothes woman!!! (as he pounds his chest..while still laying in bed with no intentions of getting up before 9am..while I have get ready and go to work)


D: I think you're getting a little big for your britches there bucko..


R: Well..once your done folding my BRITCHES, then maybe we'll talk about it.


D: "stares" ..................................................................... you're dumb.


But..now that my baby is home. 3 inches taller and ten pounds of muscle heavier (thanks to a summer of surfing and her father's strict work-out regimen), spouting newly acquired Cali jargon, ending every sentence with "I mean, really...who DOOOES that??" Our lives can go back to normal...well...our definition of normal anyway, complete with slamming doors, accusations of "you're ruining my life!!", 5mg of adderall daily, messy bedrooms, un-emptied kitty litter boxes, loud and obnoxious friends, water from the pool tracked all through the house, and 3 hour homework sessions/fights. I'll finally be able to sleep at night.



Welcome home baby..mommy missed you!