Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Is it terribly wrong

that I look forward to this moment every single day?


That I get giddy the second I close his bedroom door and sometimes actually do a little happy dance? That sometimes I'm SO overwhelmed by the lack of noise that I just don't know what to do with myself? That I don't always (read hardly ever) use this time to catch up on the housework? That sometimes I myself crawl into my nice cozy bed and take a nap? Or read a magazine or a book? Or scrapbook? Or catch up on e-mail/Facebook/blogging?

Tell me, is this wrong?

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