I want to first start out by saying how shocked and horrified I was to hear about the bombing at the Boston Marathon today. My thoughts and prayers are with everyone who has been affected by this event. My post title today has nothing to do with the events in Boston, but was instead meant to be a funny introduction to my thoughts and was titled before I heard of the events or even wrote the following words. My sincere apologies to anyone I may offend by posting this today.

As of right now, my family is planning for the end of the world.

What has brought about this most dire of circumstances you may ask?

I’m leaving town for 4 days.

My work, in their infinite wisdom, is sending me to a conference in a town 4 hours away.

That leaves my family, alone, to fend for themselves.

No one to wake them up in the morning to make sure they get to the bus on time.

No one to cook dinner for them.

No one to keep the well-oiled machine called our family running smoothly.

Wait – what was that? What did you ask? Yes you – you in the back….your question?

Where will Hun be during all of this? Is he going with me you ask?

HA!

You crack me up!

Hun has been the worst out of all of the kids. Like a poor, pitiful, lost puppy, he has been asking me for days if I’m going to miss him and the kids. He’s been extra clingy and pouting in the texts he sends me.

Relying on Hun to wake up the kids in time for school is a dream at best – he’s usually late for work himself.

Relying on Hun to cook dinner for the kids will see our fast food bill shoot through the roof (although, he is planning on making Hamburger Helper – blech!).

What will be their reality?

The world won’t end.

The kids won’t starve.

They might be late for school – once (no, I don’t have that much faith that they will make it on-time every day – but I could be wrong – they ride the bus after all).

Hun will survive without his Karaboo.

Promise.

It might sound like Hell, but they will survive.

What will be my reality?

I’ll have a bed to myself, without someone snoring next to me, hogging the covers and I can sleep in any position I want to without fear of an elbow in my face.

I’ll have control of the remote control, with access to cable, possibly a mixed drink by my side and my laptop in my lap (it’s fixed finally – YAY!).

I’ll have the opportunity to eat dinner with other professionals in my industry without fear of belches, farts or rude stories around the table as the kids attempt to “express” themselves.

I’ll have the bathroom to myself in the morning to get ready in. No vacating the premises for the man of the house to announce his presence to the porcelain god. No fears of an inopportunely timed smack, or pinch, or squeeze that causes the mascara to go smearing across my face.

It might sound like Heaven, but I will survive.

Promise!

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