Saturday, January 21, was Hugging Day. Personally, I don't think there is enough hugging. It would be a much better world if there were more hugs. Just a thought.
The twenty-first was also the day I came home from my week in Arizona. I am not opposed to leaving my boys, they survive quite well when left to their own devices, but really, Mom doesn't go away that often and Mom isn't used to going away with out her posse. (And Mom will now stop referring to herself in the third person. Weird.)
I've never been out to see my parents without my sidekick (the little one) with me. That used to be our thing when he was a little dude. Mark would be working or away TDY (that's Army talk for playing with tanks and stuff for weeks at a time at some remote location) and the Spence Man and I would head to AZ for some grandparental spoiling. But I had a great week flying solo that I wouldn't trade for anything - I spent a whole week with two of my most favorite people and got to just be their kid again. It was very cool. But jeez-o-peets (don't ask me, it's just something I say in lieu of swearing) I missed my boys!
This is a long way of saying that Hugging Day could not possibly have fallen on a better day. This is what was waiting for me at the airport...
'Nuff said.
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