There are times when the anticipation of A coming home is sweeter than the actual return. Those nights when he arrives home after being up for 20 hours, having sprinted through 2 airports to make 15 minute connections, having had to sweat it out for a seat after someone got there 2 minutes before he did, waiting 45 minutes for the shuttle to the economy lot to get the car. Or when he misses the last flight and has to make it to the crashpad, try to get 5 hours of sleep and then get back to the airport for the first flight out in the morning.
I try not to take his bad mood and tiredness personally, but really I'm no saint in that department. It can be hard when I've built up a fantastic, romantic (or not) reunion and he comes home and flops on the bed. Because, you know, who doesn't like to spend the night with Eau d'Jet Fuel emanating from next to you when you really needed the air in your tires checked before you headed to work in the morning. And to sweeten him up for the task you made his favorite dessert that he totally bypassed. Or worse yet, shoveled in in lieu of dinner in front of the child you made eat dinner first causing a crying fit you had to deal with on top of everything else. Sometimes the dream I'm livin' isn't all it's cracked up to be.
Not that he doesn't try, stopping at the airport to buy me my favorite soap or pulling out a trinket from an overnight. We all have our moments.