A couple days ago I went out with some mommy friends (it was as if I had a life outside of my child for a moment!) for dinner and drinks. I don't often go out. At all. In fact, my once-every-two-months outing with these girls is about the extent of my nightlife anymore.
I told my Bubba I'd be home around 9:30 or 10 and out I went! I had a huge burger and fries and two pints of beer. Because we all know that in the company of good girl friends food mysteriously loses its caloric value.
About 9:30 a cell phone rang. One friend said "I've been waiting for this. It's my husband wanting to know if I'm ever coming home again." One of my other friends said that she was kind of waiting for her husband to call too.
I thought that was interesting, because when I'm out with friends my Bubba would never call me. Not ever. Well, unless there was an emergency. And even then he probably wouldn't call until he was able to tell me that he took care of everything and it was fine, but just so I know what's going on.
There are times when I really wish my Bubba were the kind of person who would call wondering where I am because he's worried about my safety or wondering how long I'll be because he'd like to try to wait up to go to bed with me. The kind of guy who will call just to remind me that he loves me and he's waiting for me.
But then again, I know that he's the kind of person who would never call me if I'm out even until 2am because he'd be more worried about ruining my good time than knowing that I'm ok. And then if I did stay out until all night and roll home in the wee hours, he'd get up with the baby and change her and entertain her until the last possible minute he could eek out of his morning before he absolutely has to go to work in order to let me get the maximum amount of sleep.
I'll take that kind of love too.