When Amy and I were little, your arrival home from work (almost always around 6pm) was a big occasion. Every day we would ask Mom "what time is Dad coming home today?" even though it was always the same answer.
If you hadn't called to confirm your schedule, I would call your office, which I loved doing. Then we would wait by the door or look out the windows in the living room. We always called out "Dad's home" when you pulled into the driveway.
I guess days were so long back then, the afternoons after school endless stretches of time, and your coming home was kind of a punctuation mark on the day. And, we were alway starving, so your arrival meant we could eat. But before we could eat, you had to go upstairs and change out of your suit. It always seemed to take forever, just like the afternoon.
It's funny to think of how much your arrival elicited excitement and anticipation. It was like something good happening every day. I loved that routine.
xx
M
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