I am married to a rock god.

It isn't enough that he is a Liar and now also a Nasty Habit (new project). No. He is also (cough, cough) role model to the under five set!

In fact, the president of the Uncle Jon Fan Club is keeping the East Coast Chapter alive and kicking. Why, just a couple weeks ago, Hunter informed his dad that when he "got bigger" he was going to "put a ton of gas in my car and drive to Vegas to see Uncle Jon!" Still no word as to whether or not seeing Aunt Kelly is on the itinerary.

And so, here I sit- a band widow. I used to really mope about this state of affairs. Especially during times when there are three practices per week (like now). But last week I came to the conclusion that this is the best of both worlds. I have the house to myself and can do weird single-girl things (like eat toast and yogurt for dinner) and putter aound (Jon can't STAND to just BE) without feeling like I am depriving him of something exciting. This I can do for several hours, and then, just whenI am getting bored with only myself and Tele for company, I hear the Jeep pulling into our spot. Yay! Jon is home, and I have new appreciation for him.

Well, I suppose I should make good use of my evening-at-home time. Max Lucado and Sierra Nevada Pale Ale beckon.

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