(meaning the WWI version, not the overly-exaggerated meaning we know today)
I'm home from marching rehearsal and getting ready to head back. I don't know who is staying over tonight - me or my wife - but am packed up in case I am staying. I haven't left yet because, with The Wife and The Boy are my brother and his family and my in-laws. Plenty of company for the time being. My feet need some airing out.
I could have gone to the competition today. I freely admit it. There are plenty of people around who would have helped us. But, from an emotional standpoint, I would have been going absolutely crazy. I do NOT want to be away from my home, my family and my baby for that long! I don't mind spending time at home while The Wife is at the hospital with the rest of the family. I did this morning - I cleaned the kitchen while our newest family member, Reggie, roamed the house. (Reggie is a Roomba, one of the self-propelled vaccuum cleaner robots that I bought a couple of weeks ago. He goes around the house and vaccuums stuff up, as long as you are there to fish him out from getting stuck under chairs and couches and things. No worries. The house looks better, and I'm happy about it.
I just want this hospital stay to end so that we can get this surgery over with. I want to get the stupid Philadelphia trip DONE!