Home Sweet Home

I've missed my house.  And my bed — the thick mattress and the soft 4-inch memory foam mattress topper.  I've missed the fuzzy blanket that keeps my toes warm.  I've missed waking up in the morning knowing that when I step out of the bedroom, I'd see the husband hunched over the computer.  I've missed taking a shower in my very own bathroom stall, with all my hair essentials lined up in a row.  

It's great to be home again.

I've been away for two nights, giving in to a request by B and her aunt, B (let's call her B2 to avoid confusion), who I've become really close friends with during her visit here.  B2 was set to leave for home and so it was deemed necessary that I spend the night to say our goodbyes.  Apparently, B1's 4am vigil at the balcony was a one-shot deal and that left me and B2 to really spend hours gabbing as she packed 3 boxes to full capacity.  We slept at 5am, waiting for word from the airline whether she'll be able to board a flight that night.  Unfortunately, her flight was not confirmed but we headed to San Francisco anyway so she could drop off two boxes for cargo, a privilege extended to airline employees like her (but not without the usual fees for excess).  I was supposed to go home that night, after that short trip to San Francisco and a satisfying meal at Jollibee, but one thing led to another and I found myself sleeping over again.  Her flight had been confirmed for the next night, and so extended goodbyes were in order.  She entrusted her niece to me, saying I am the only person who can help B1 navigate the world of maturity and adulthood, a task I hardly think I would like to take on simply because I'd turn into a nag if I did.  And yeah, we were able to discuss all this because B1, again, left us to our own devices as she bid us a sleepy good night 5 minutes after we arrived at their place.  

This morning, I made a hasty and early exit with the husband while they were all sleeping.  I missed home and the husband too much.  I figured if B2 would really make it tonight (unfortunately, she didn't…  the flight for Manila was overbooked), I could say my last goodbyes by phone.  The husband and I had breakfast at IHOP with the cheery waiter, Alejandro, brightening up our morning even more.  When we got home, I breathed a big sigh of relief, changed into my sleep clothes, and dove into our comfy bed.  

Home sweet home.