I picked Myers up from the airport last night around 11:40, and was not surprised to see that his shoes were untied, and that his shirt buttons were mismatched. Honestly, my husband and I don’t do well when we’re apart; we both revert to some sort of feral sub-human species. Together we are almost human.
Our shoes are tied, at least.
The dogs squealed and plastered him with kisses for about fifteen minutes when he first got home, and then they immediately put their noses to the front door and tried to convince my husband that 12am was not too early (or late) to go for a dog walk! (John is the premier dog walker in the family. He will let them do whatever they want, without disciplining them, and they love him massively for it.)