Night 1, Home Alone

Odie was happy to see me. We went through our usual ritual. She made happy noises and wagged her tail, giving me a kiss on the cheek when I bent down. Then she made for the closet by the washer for her weekly "Momma's Home" chewy Dingo treat. Pavlov's dog has nothing on her.

I usually beat Pablo home from work, so things didn't seem lonely until 5 p.m. when he usually backs his car up the driveway and into the garage. Yes, for some reason, he likes to be backed in and ready to go. Then he comes through the door to a chorus of me saying, "Daddy's home!" to the pets. Oh, I used to say it to the kids - but they's all growed up now. Odie - if not too distracted by still chewing the Dingo (they're small and only take her around 20 minutes to polish off..) makes a big deal out of his return. We must keep in mind that during the week, he is Odie's lifeline...so he's an important figure in her life.

Then he asks me to turn the TV to ESPN's Sport Center, for all the sports news of the day. He plops into his recliner, and we catch up on our days. Then we both surf the Net on our laptops - side-by-side. Me on various newspapers, blogs, Cyclone sites. Paul checks out hunting, Cyclone and Green Bay Packer sites. We watch national and local news and round up some supper. He often cooks - more than I do.

So tonight - I had cereal. Yep, without him I'd prolly be a little old cat lady. I'm listening to a book where the main character is a woman of about age 30 who is going through some angst of her life. She's still a cocktail waitress and is going nowhere fast. She says, "I might as well go to the shelter and get my 7 cats now." I thought that was a pretty good line. Yes, the Poolboy stands between me and crazy old-ladyhood.

I have a whole weekend of menus to plan (hmmm what kinda cereal should I eat next)...so I'd better get going!