Dear In-Service…

…we are not friends. I believe with my whole heart that you are a third-cousin of “Deployment” (with whom I’ve had my own confrontations, as well). While not nearly as long, you do your best to pack everything you can into (at minimum) one solid week. You’re an overachiever, and a jerk. It’s ironic that my husband is away bettering his Kentucky law enforcement career, while you concentrate on practicing Murphy’s law.  “Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong” and at the worst possible moment, right? Right.  Someone will get sick, something electronic will go bad, someone will need something only my LEO can provide and cooking for 1.5 people for only one week is awkward (especially when his preferred choices are pizza, mac and cheese or chicken nuggets).

Oh, In-Service.

Did you notice the little boy standing by the window? He doesn’t know how to tell time, yet, but he does know that when the short hand is on one side of the clock and the big hand is at the bottom, daddy normally pulls into the driveway.  When the phone rings, I’ll be undoubtedly putting him in the shower or helping him with school work.  When we try to call daddy back, he will be again invested in you. That’s how you work.

So, while you do your best to make my life chaos, I will try to get little man’s allergies under control.  His TV has broken, so he’s watching Rescue Bots in my room (it’s Bumblebee’s birthday, don’t you know?) and drawing daddy pictures. I don’t know anything about fixing the wheel on my husband’s truck, but it will wait until he’s back and I suppose we can have mac and cheese for dinner tonight.  I’m glad you’re not another year-long trip to Iraq, but you wear me out nonetheless and I will not be sorry to see you go.


One Tired LEOW


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