ammogirl

When I got done putting groceries away tonight, I turned to the next task: the messages on the answering machine. One was me, telling Taylor I was heading to the store after PT. One was Tay’s friend Becca. The third was John’s boss, asking me to call him back.

I called, and when he got on the phone, he said, “oh, thank you for calling me back. Umm…are you doing okay?” “Yesss….” I replied, wondering why he was calling and why my stomach had butterflies. “Well, I hate to say this, but…” “What?” “…I need you to mail John’s service dress* to him for the award picture. Also, I wanted to make sure you had my number, in case you need anything.”

…you can’t be mad, girl.

I know, know, know he called with the best of intentions, but godDAMN don’t start out a converstation with “umm…are you doing okay?” My poor stomach.

Anyway. I graciously thanked him for his offer, and when we hung up laughed a little at myself for being so jumpy.

John left for Balad yesterday, by the way. The girls and I saw him off at the terminal and came home and I got dinner together and evening stuff underway and didn’t cry until the girls were away from me, doing homework. These first few days are the worst, because you know they’ll be gone long enough to get a little used to having the whole Cal King to yourself. And you think, “I can’t wait to tell that story…oh.” And then you get into a routine, and they get into a routine, and before you know it three weeks have gone by and that’s almost a month, and after that it’s all just a countdown.

160 sleeps.  That’s nothing.  Really.

Tschuss!!

*our fancy uniform. not actually a dress.