My husband has been away from home a lot lately - a real lot.
I have tried very hard not to grumble - tried, and perhaps failed a little.
But when the suitcase doesn't even get put away because it must be repacked the next day, or the car pulls out of the driveway just as quickly as it pulls in, a wife can get a little cross.
Not to mention feeling a little lonely.
In an attempt to appease his unhappy wife, my husband arrived home late, with an early morning flight to catch the next day, bearing a huge box of chocolates. He knew he was treading on thin ice.
They were my favourite chocolates. Ones filled with yummy colourful gooey insides.
All was not forgiven, but it was certainly a step in the right direction.
If I couldn't have him, at least I would have my box of treats.
However, knowing myself all too well, I took a few out and then asked him to hide the box somewhere in the house so I wouldn't eat them all over the days he was away.
Looking at me a little hesitantly, as the chocolates were supposed to be the replacement husband for 72 hours, he went and hid them.
He jumped on his plane the next day, with yet another wave goodbye, and I just got on with life ... until I remembered the box of chocolates.
I began casually opening random kitchen cupboards just to see if perhaps they might be there.
When that search failed to turn up any goodies, I again "casually" made my way to bedroom and had a little peak around just to ease my curiosity.
By the evening, I was desperate. Where were my chocolates? Where were my replacement husband treats?
As a last resort, I sent a message to New Zealand where said husband was working demanding to have the chocolate mystery solved.
He must have sensed the desperation in my message because he very quickly responded saying they were hidden on top of the fridge.
By 8:30 that night, most of the chocolates were gone. My boys and I sat up in bed watching a movie while unwrapping delicious delights, one after the other after the other.
By 9pm I felt a little sick, and then of course I couldn't sleep because of the amount of sugar rushing through my veins. I could also feel some melted chocolate on the bed sheets.
I made a mental note to myself that in the morning I would text my husband and growl at him for telling me where he had hidden my treats because, just as if he was here at home, everything is always his fault.