After going through two deployments, a brief, three-day TDY should be a breeze, right? And emotionally-speaking, of course, it was. My husband has been home from his trip for four days, but from the look of things, you'd think he was just getting ready to leave.
Anyone who knows me, knows that I'm a bit *cough* anal retentive *cough.* The night before I leave for a trip -- any trip -- I clean my house from top to bottom. I hate to come home to tasks. It just feels better to come home to a clean and organized house. The night I get home from a trip, I unpack everything, put the travel bag away and get the laundry started.
They say opposites attract, and I guess there's something to that. My husband is the yin to my yang. He's as easy-going as they come and he rarely sweats the small stuff. Oh, to live like that.....
My husband came home late at night and he's not an immediate unpacker like me, so the next morning when I got up and saw his bag laying on the floor, I thought nothing of it. Off he went to work and I assumed he would unpack when he got home. The next evening, I went to bed before he did. When I got up the next morning, the bag was gone. Clearly, my husband had unpacked and put everything away before I got up.
I stumbled into the bathroom to brush my teeth, still half asleep, then I mosied into the kitchen, made my breakfast and started my day. Later, when I was showering, I noticed that Max jumped into the tub and disappeared. I never saw him jump back out. After I stepped out of the shower, I peered into the tub to find my husband's black travel bag laying on the floor of the tub, with Max comfortably nestled inside, purring away.
We're going on five days now. When I haven't seen Max for a while, I know exactly where to find him. In the tub. On top of my husband's dirty clothes. It's become his new siesta spot. My husband is in no hurry to unpack the bag and put it away. He's now claiming it's all for Max. Wouldn't want to deprive him of a little pleasure, you know. It's true that we get angry cat eyes when we peer into the tub. It's as if Max is saying, "Can I help you? Don't you see I'm trying to get a little shut-eye. Please quit interrupting me." My husband claims he's saying, "Don't even think about removing this bag from the tub."
Because the bag is not unpacked, I have no idea if my husband came home with a pink Venus razor this time. And to tell the truth, I'm a little afraid to disturb the new cat bed. Max has been known to retaliate in ways that are, well, unconventional.
