The Return of The Native

Hail, Hail the gang's all here,
Aren't you glad we're all here,
Aren't you glad we're all here . . .

Oh happy day, the huz has made it safely back home! After about 24 straight hours of traveling (including time changes), Rob straggled in to Chez Langan in the wee smalls, tired and unshaven, but looking none the worse for wear. Luckily, he didn't have far to go in order to see the children -- they were huddled in a soporific pile of limbs on his side of the bed. ("Move it and lose it" is one of our many mottos).
Since Rob had so wisely taken the day after his return off from work, I was able to sit with some coffee and listen to tales from Moldova, while admiring all the digital pictures on the computer. I heard about Yuri, their mini-bus driver, who drove them around like he was being pursued by the devil; their tour of the winery that is in the Guinness Book of World Records for having the most wine in the world; the one Moldovan doctor who was very friendly but had a stern appearance, thus earning the nickname of "KGB Man"; the little old women who spend their days sweeping the sidewalks and streets with brooms made out of sticks; their banquet in the Republican Palace; the beauty of the country and the extreme friendliness of the people. All in all, he had a wonderful, memorable trip.
And I am so happy that he had a good trip. Really. I am. But I had to try so hard not to let him have an earful of all of the things that went awry while he was gone. Who wants to be welcomed home with a litany of the "poor-me's." It always happens, though, and it's something I hate about myself. I count it as a character flaw. Instead of being gracious and grace-full, in the truest sense, I have to be a bee-yotch and try to make him pay, just a little, for being gone. And I was the person who talked him into going in the first place! So how messed up is that?
Next year, the group is going to Tajikistan for their mission, and while Rob hasn't decided if he's going, I'd better start working on my attitude now.

PS: He did bring back some rocking souvenirs, though. Can't wait to try the Moldovan champagne at Thanksgiving, and I am strangely intrigued by a gift that was given to him called "Balsam Misterios." He was told that if he was feeling tired or "down," that a few sips would restore his vigor! Some of the ingredients: vanilla, ginseng, "23 species of medicinal plants," caffeine, and a 45% alcohol content! Move over Nyquil, the Moldovans have something better.