Like he showered in Windex

Andrew just got back from a five-day bachelor party. (Yes, that’s right... No, really, it was five days... I know, that’s what I said... Uh huh... Uh huh... I completely agree.) He was in Salt Lake City, which is not where we live. It is not even the same time zone. So (keep up with me here) he was out of town. Standard operating procedure for out-of-town spouses says that the out-of-town spouse should give the stuck-at-home-feeding-the-cats spouse a phone call at least every other day. These don’t have to be long, rambling phone calls, just a simple “Hey, I haven’t broken any major bones while snowboarding. How are the cats?” kind of thing.

Let me tell you what I got. Thursday afternoon, I got a voicemail on my cell phone, which is sort of problematic in itself because Andrew knows (believe me, we’ve been over it) that if he wants to reach Megan during work hours, he must call Megan’s work phone. But I digress. Saturday morning, I called Andrew and left a nice little message and asked him to call me when he got a chance. To his credit, he returned my call promptly Saturday afternoon. We talked for ten minutes (TEN MINUTES!) and he says he’d better go because he needs to grab lunch before meeting back up with the guys. He says, see you tomorrow night! And I said, well, seeing as how your plane doesn’t land until almost midnight and it is a work night, I will probably be asleep.

And then when I woke up on Monday morning, there he was! Like magic!

But I hadn’t forgotten that over the course of FIVE DAYS we’d only talked for TEN MINUTES. Which, clearly, is not adequate. So of course I brought it up. I said that I didn’t feel like ten minutes was long enough, that I wished when he was out of town he would call a bit more, or talk for a bit longer. Fifteen minutes, maybe, or even twenty!

He looked me in the eye, paused just a second longer than necessary, and said, “I missed you too.”