Missing him

It was Thursday. She wasn’t sure how it was Thursday. It seemed only a few moments ago that it was Monday. She hated working away from her baby. She had been so sad to give up breastfeeding less than a month ago, but she couldn’t take her baby in to work, and now they’d sent her away for the week. She’d kissed her baby and put him to bed on Sunday night, and looked in quietly before sneaking out the door Monday morning.

“Don’t wake him,” David whispered. “Come on. Taxi’s here.”

David had dropped to part time and little Jon enjoyed his three days in day care. David had packed her into the taxi and given her a strong kiss. His breath was morning stale, but she didn’t mind. He’d put up with her regular messages, especially at night.

 

“Did you bath him?”

“Yes.”

“And read him a book?”

“Yes. Stop worrying.”

“Is he sleeping ok?”

“He’s fine. Get some rest, see you Friday.”

 

She had no idea of what she had achieved for the week. All she knew is that she couldn’t wait to be home. 

 

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