If I had a husband waiting for me when I got home from work today, he might have asked me this:
"Hi honey. How was your day?"
"It was good, thanks! Sarah came by. We knew each other at BYU, sort of. She came into that library sometimes too."
"Yeah? That's cool. Anything else interesting happen?"
"Well, I did finish muddling through one that one book truck and half of the other. Oh. And I guess I did roll my ankle and fall and scraped my knee."
"Yeah. Walking, just walking, on the even floor carrying a bunch of empty music boxes. Those spilled everywhere. See?"
"Oh sweetie, I'm sorry. Does your ankle feel better?"
"Yeah, just a little sore. Oddly, my knees stings worse than my ankle hurts."
"Well, we'll just have to fix that."
And then he'd kiss it better.
But I don't have a husband. Nor have I even been home yet. I'll put some Neosporin on it when I am.
I can, however, play Mom for the evening. A couple of my married high schools friends are celebrating their 2nd anniversary on Monday, and he just finished this semester's law finals, so I volunteered to watch their 8 week old son so she could take her husband on a surprise date.
He sure is a cutie!
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