Missing out

That was one of the longest weeks of my life. Melissa and Harry spent the week at the seaside in Harlech, leaving me home alone.

It wasn't quite a week - Monday to Thursday to be precise - but being away from Harry (and Melissa of course) was painful. It’s the longest I’ve gone without seeing Harry and while I expected it to be bad, I didn’t realise just how much I’d miss him.

For a start, the house was completely silent – a real shock to the system as I’m used to walking in to a barrage of noise and activity when I get home from work. For the first day or so, it was quite a novelty but then it just felt, well, lonely walking into a deserted home.

It wasn’t just the noise that was missing either. Getting in from work and immediately being dragged outside to play is the most effective way of relieving stress I’ve yet discovered. I also missed the cuddles, the sound of Harry giggling and his cheeky smile when he’s done something he knows he shouldn’t.

One evening I phoned and spoke to Harry who was fine until Melissa told him to say night night to me. When responded by shouting that he wanted daddy - the lump in my throat was more like a boulder.

But I suppose it wasn't all bad. The fish tank got a good clean, the lawn was mowed and - whisper it quietly - I even managed to tackle a bit of ironing, badly of course. The best bit, though, was when I arrived in Harlech on Friday – the welcome from Harry was something else.

Half an hour later, normal service was resumed when I gave Harry a telling off for emptying out a tube of toothpaste on the bathroom floor. By the time he went to bed, it was as if we hadn’t been apart.