I was away last night and today, and my house is wrecked, my husband is sulking like a badly-behaved child who missed out on a field trip, and I've ended up bring back more then I left with as is usually the case.

But, my first order of business is to try to regain real estate in my kitchen in the form of cleaned off counter tops. If I didn't know better, I'd think he and my darling little girl somehow used each and every dish in the house between 3pm yesterday and 6pm today. How does this happen?

And, I have a funny story about my venture "home" that I want to get down, along with thoughts about what it means to "go home", but that'll have to wait until tomorrow.

I should never. ever. leave. my. house.