As I'm traveling home from school, much later than I had hoped, I discarded the idea of a stop at the gym. I was thinking that I'd better get home and decide what we would have for dinner. My husband is very flexible as to what he eats and when, but this is tax season and he is an accountant. The only break for food that he takes during the day is for dinner. So I have a pang of guilt if it gets too late. The dinner "in and out" escalates from this point to mid April. He calls or texts me for my suggested ETA. He enters the house, greets the cat and me (most likely in that order), peers into pots and the oven, sits at the table and almost patiently waits.
He is only home to eat, have some conversation (which shortens as the April deadline approaches) and dashes back out the door to more taxes, papers and deadlines.