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It’s been work and hockey, hockey and work. There is a thin layer of ice smattering everything east of Home Depot. I’m uncharacteristically nonchalant over the chaos. You know I’ve always had a soft spot for good old-fashioned hockey.
At night, she plugs her nose when she does a pose for the photo. I laugh for days.
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Me: Last week, I’d meant to book his flight to Chicago, but I forgot the team is doing it this year. I’ve done this before, and you’d think I’d have learned my lesson (Max traveled with his team to Minnesota and, beyond), but this has got to be the third time this year? I blame moving. My head is in the clouds, on my patients, anywhere but here.
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He: Finally ready for a crazed travel season.
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Me: Finally home.
