Missing you

Okay, it's rubbing off on me. My darling loves, and I mean loves to whinge. It has become almost second nature for him to do so. And since I felt he needed to keep in practice while I am gone and in keeping with the spirit of his love of whinging, I promptly went out today and spent some of our dosh on me and the crowd.

Wal-Mart is a fun store to lose your dosh in. It doesn't help that I now think in English "Sterling" instead of U.S. "Dollars" either. No matter what my darling grump thinks, I think he came out okay with the balance cut almost in half, in my most humbled opinion.

Now, I want to whinge. It's hot. I mean really hot. It's muggy, really muggy. And I am bored, really really bored. Bored, as in give me a B-O-R-E-D, bored. My youngest and I haven't even been here a week yet, and I am about ready to climb the walls.

I am starting to feel like a teenager just waiting for her boyfriend to call her. I wait all day until 9pm (British time) or 4pm (Southern Time) for him to call. Then, after the first five-ten minutes, we really don't have anything to say, but I be damn if I want him to get off the phone. I just want to hear his voice.

And I know that he misses me tremendously too. He gave me a prime example last night. After his dinner, he really wanted a cup-a-tea, but our dog was on his lap and my darling grump didn't have the heart to get him off. Said that he really missed me bringing him his tea. He had to wait 45 minutes until he was able to get off his arse and get it himself.

Isn't love divine?