Dear Scott, part 1.

Dear Scott,

Here we are. Day 4 into your wild backpacking adventure in Colorado. I wonder if you found your prized bull elk yet. I can’t wait to watch you provide for our family by filling our freezer with elk meat. Also, an Instagram picture for you to reminisce with our future grandchildren.  I already have so much to tell you when you come down to the real world with wifi, cell signals, and my honey-do list.

But don’t worry about that. That’s part 2.

This is part 1.

We’re fine, Scott. We’re fine. 96 hours of single parenting later, I am a completely sane individual.

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I can’t complain, really. The kids are at school for seven hours a day during the week.

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It’s not hard. I drive to the school. I drive from the school. I drive to the school. I drive from the school.

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I have the dogs to entertain me during the day.

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And I found a good book to keep me company at night.

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I hope you and Hunter are on speaking terms since you two are stuck with each other for a good 10 days. I hope you’re healthy and drinking enough water. Is your pee clear, Scott? That’s important.

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The weekend was hectic. I had to entertain the children all day. We all know I’m not the “fun” parent. I made them watch football all weekend. To catch you up – FSU lost, North Dakota State beat Iowa, and K-State won huge. It was like watching the ‘ole glory days in Manhattan, Kansas. Our house waved that flag with such pride.

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The Kansas City Chiefs had turnover problems. They lost. This killed me, Scott. Killed me.

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With all the estrogen flaring up and screaming at each other, you don’t need to worry about anyone breaking in at night. This house sits all night locked and loaded.

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Thank you so much for the flowers you secretly sent us before you left! I was shocked when the flower lady stopped by! I mean, I’m right when I say you ordered them before you left because you can’t send flowers from a mountain with no cell phone service. I just hope you’re not dead from falling off a cliff or something because then these flowers would be extra creepy because they’re flowers sent from the grave.

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So anyway, don’t worry about us. We’re fine. It’s day 4 out of 10. I’m 40% all there. 144 hours to go. I can’t imagine anything dramatic happening to me, our two daughters, two female dogs (who are complete bitches, by the way), and a female cat.

See you on part 2.

XOXO. Your wifey,

Bug

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Wait, don’t go! Find me on FacebookTwitter, and Instagram. The skeleton loves Instagram stories.

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