The 30 minutes before you arrive home is always the longest part of the day.
I hear your noisy truck (we need to get that fixed) come around the corner and pull in to the driveway.
I stand up a little straighter.
In the few minutes that it takes for you to get to the door (the bin needs to be taken out) I am frozen. I am unsure as to what to do with myself while I wait.
The sucking and whooshing sound that the opening of the door makes will forever make my heart beat a little faster, help my body relax and inject just that bit more energy that I've been craving all day.
That door opening is a sign for LQ, too. Her little body leaps from whatever position she is in. She flies to the door. "DADDY"!
Her excitement is just a snippet of how I feel about your homecoming, but I play it cool.
LQ gets cuddles and I get the same sort of kiss I got from you when we were dating.
I know you love me.
I hope that you know how much I love you. I hope that the waiting dinner shows that I love you. I hope that the made bed shows that I love you. I hope that my face shows how much I love you.
I hope my entire life shows that I love you beyond any words on a silly blog post could ever convey and how much I love having you all to myself each evening (usually).