WH home by 8:30 every night this week except when he had a meeting. As my Friday Night Travels took longer to cook than expected ("Mom! I'm STARVING!"), he was even home for our trip to France tonight so we could enjoy French onion soup and Quiche Lorraine together as we talked about Louis Pasteur, Napoleon, and the flying buttresses of Notre Dame. All in all, fun and interesting.
He's still dropping hints that he'd like to move back to our room, but I'm ignoring them for now. I'm not that easy - and I'm also not particularly attracted to the OW marionette. The strings are breaking one by one, but they're not completely gone yet. That Pinnochio living in my basement needs to turn back into a man - a real man - and do some wooing before he's welcomed back.
The marriage we had is over. If he wants a new one, he's going to have to work for it...
