Home alone

My wife has left me. Off for the weekend to the beach to drink cases of wine, eat fabulous food and sleep uninterrupted throughout the night. As for me, I get to listen to “It’s not my fault,” “I’m so sorry!” “She’s touching my stuff!” and many other lovely phrases.

I think I’ve posted about this before (I’ll have to go back to my other site and sift through the archives). I don’t get girls’ weekend, ’cause if I had a boys weekend I’d probably suffer the slings and arrows of leaving my wife to have … fun. What a concept. My goings away ususally consist of work-related activities. Or school. Neither of which is quite the same as living the single life for a few days.

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