He's always trying to come home

7am was when I finally got the call. It was from a number I didn't have saved in my phone, so naturally I assumed it was either the police or the coroner. What else could I have thought when my husband had gone out with his friends for a night of drinking and didn't make it home with them? While the drunks were all passed out on my couch, I was wide awake imagining life as a widow with 2 kids. But then, the call (from a payphone because his phone had died).

"Babe!" he was giggling. "I didn't come home." You don't say. "I blacked out," he's still laughing. "I was asleep in Justin's car but I don't know how I got there. The door was locked and the alarm was on." He was pretty sure he had super powers. We still don't know how he got in the car. Justin had the keys, and they had separated earlier in the night. "Can you come pick me up?" Sigh. I had told him I didn't want to have to come pick him up in the middle of the night. I guess next time I should include "or the next day after getting no sleep wondering where the heck you were."

I let him off the hook, only because I figure he only risked his secret identity and used his super powers to get into the car in an attempt to drive home to me. He's always trying to come home to me. I love him.