Absence Makes the Something Grow Something Something

I'm about 2,400 miles from NJ right now, thanks to an unexpected trip home to Houston. Four days away from the kid. The first time I've spent more than three hours away from her, I think. Some ridiculous number like that. And ...

When Dad's away: Rockin' the eggplant knit hat, heart-and-peace-sign onesie and a new denim jacket.

... now I have a completely new understanding of what The Wife goes through when she leaves NJ in the morning and goes to work. The Wife, getting a taste of Super Solo-ing herself, has obliged with e-mailed photos, as has a very considerate friend, but it's not the same. The first night I was gone I looked at the clock, subtracted two hours for Pacific time, and wistfully said "NJ's getting her bath right now." I actually said that out loud.

So: I'm out four days and nights. The Wife's typical week: Out five days, home for those nights. I'm going to call that a draw and say that this trip is about equal to one of The Wife's work weeks. I'm counting myself as lucky that I only have to do it once. Because I sure do miss the little diddle. I left town thinking "nice little break," and by the time I landed the dial had moved to "She doesn't nap when I'm not there!" and other hand-wringing nonsense.

Here's one thing I missed:

For the love of all that is good and holy, I beseech you, woman: No more of this pureed !#&@^!&* peas* nonsense. Daddy would never let this happen.

When you're there participating in a fiasco like that, you hit the whole range of emotions, from "This'll be nutritious fun!" to "You're so cute" to "Come on, now" to "Sheesh, kid, EAT!" and "Get your hand out of that!" When you only get a couple of photos of it in e-mail, though, it looks like it was the Best Time Ever ... and I missed it. Sigh.

Oh well. Maybe missing out once in a while will make the next Best Time Ever even better.

Update: Pureed avocadoes, not peas.