He's home. Yay!

My pumpkin is home. Yay! I picked him up from the airport at 10am. He's still just too gorgeous. I gave him a big hug and kiss. I think we shocked a woman standing near by as I ran up to him and grabbed him. Swung him around and around and around, as the music played. Crescendo’d. The strings soared. Okay, the spinning round and the violins were, quite possibly, only in my head, but they felt good none the less.

Kiss. Hug. Squeeze.

He sniffed out the car window, on the way home. "I so missed the fresh air."

I rested my hand on his leg, I didn’t realise how much I missed that.

He's slow, though, really slow, moving at a glacial pace. He keeps telling me he is exhausted. A six and half hour train ride, an hours aeroplane ride and then an eight hour aeroplane ride to Melbourne... with stop overs of varying time in between each. So he's been travelling for 48 hours on his journey home. So, I guess he has a case.

We ate Japanese in Carlton for lunch. The sun shone down and a cool breeze blew. We slept in the afternoon.

"We can't do this, we have to get you back onto Melbourne time."

Of course, I kissed him first. Licked him, pulled his clothes off. Big smile.

He's missing his maid from home... but he is glad to be back. He keeps clapping his hands to be waited on and then questions why it doesn't work. He's still funny. Of course, that is more a comment on how he expects to be treated here by his honey, who would be me, than anything that happened back home.

He's laying on my couch with his tongue hanging out. “I’m exhausted.” Clap, clap. "Where’s my drink?" Clap, clap. "Where’s my watermelon?" I'm running around getting him things... and I don't mind one little bit.

I cooked him a sausage pasta for dinner. It turned out rather well. I introduced him to Chinotto, which he hated. Too biter. "Oh the after taste is horrible." Cough cough. "Euw! Yuck!"

He feels nice in my arms, just where he is supposed to be. I can rub his hair again and smell him in long slow sniffs.

He's worried that he won't be able to write computer code. I kissed his handsome face. "Don't worry, babe. The salt mines aren't for three days. We still have the weekend."

I like it when he pats my hair and plays with my ear… nonchalantly.

“I’m exhausted,” he says. “Let’s go to bed. Oh… come on! NOW!”

So, you can see, he’s still bossy.