Shucks

One of the lesser known perks of Navy life and periodic separation: dopey, adolescent crush phases upon reuniting.

I feel like I'm about 13 years old right now. My chest has a helium balloon full of giggles in it, and even as I'm plowing through a mountain of must-get-done shit at work, there's this adrenalin charge lighting up my veins knowing that when I get home, Pants will be there. He called me at work about 15 minutes ago to complain that the house is boring without me there and I should catch a quick cold and come home.

I almost did.

I haven't felt this way since we were first dating and his ring tone on my phone was enough to make my heart flip over. My coworkers probably gagged to hear our brief, shmoopy exchange, but what I was thinking is, how much will the end of deployment be similar to this? Could I handle that, or would it be like ODing on Christmas morning puppies?

Pants said his commander had a brief talk with the squadron before they left the boat from this last 5-week hitch, saying "Remember, now it's got to be 'Please pass the salt' instead 'Pass the fucking salt, Ass Clown.'" He might have been better off warning against sugary public displays of affection and work-derailing love calls, but this is just what I needed at this moment.