Where in the world...?

Where in the world is The Mister? People ususally look at me incredulously when I tell them I don't know. I'm The Mister's wife. I am the keeper of his house, and the mother of his children. My disinterest in where he is has nothing to do with my feelings about him. I love The Mister, but The Mister is a traveler.  Being on the road has become a somewhat undesirable component of The Mister's work.  He's gone at least a few days of each week.  When The Mister approaches the Hertz Car Rental counter, they see him coming and grab his keys.  When he hops a flight on Delta, they upgrade him to first class.  The flight attendants give him extra Biscoff cookies to bring home to me.  He gets the best rooms, free meals, he's leaned how to travel well.

Most people think I'm uncaring because I don't keep better track of The Mister.  But the truth is, if he's not here, I know he's working somewhere else.  No matter where that somewhere else is, he's not here...  And that's all I really need to know.  I like to have The Mister home to help with homework.  I need  The Mister home to take out the garbage.  I miss The Mister when I have nobody to warm my cold feet in bed.  And that's what it comes down to...  If he isn't here, he's somewhere else...  And if he's somewhere else, I'm on my own...  That's all I need to know.

I was going to meet The Mister in Las Vegas today.  We had grand plans to go to dinner, see a show, snuggle without interruption...  But apparently I'm not destined to be a traveler.  Life got in the way, and I'm home taking care of my own responsibilities.  I wish I could go...  I miss you, Mister!  Come on home and stay for a while, will you?