My husband is on vacation for two weeks. I love having him home more.
Mostly.
But having him around more means my writing routine (such as it is) faces serious interruptions.
Like the latest bad pun he invented all by himself that he simply has to tell right now. To someone.
For example--earlier, he woke from a nap and said, "Hey you know the name of that little town we're going to be visiting next week when we see Joe?"
"Pomeroy."
"Right. Do you suppose they call themselves Pomeranians?"
"Do not tell that joke while we are there."
"It's not a joke. I really want to know."
"Gary."
He gives me an innocent look. "What? I'm curious."
When he asks the locals this question, I fully intend to claim that I'm just a hitchhiker when they chase him out of town with pitchforks.
It could be a long two weeks, folks.
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