By Tanis Miller
My husband and I haven’t seen each other for 43 days. That’s six weeks plus a day for those of you who suck at simple math.
This isn’t the longest stretch we’ve gone without seeing each other, but it’s close. In fact, unless he gets home by tomorrow night, which he won’t, by the time he does walk through our front door, a new record will have been set.
It’s not exactly a record I’m in any hurry to beat.
This legally-married yet still single parenting gig sucks after six straight weeks of yelling at the kids to clean up their bedrooms, stop touching each other, stop breathing in each other’s air space and for the love of my sanity quit hiding the Oreo’s on one another.
It’s not funny when I can’t... More...
