Ok, I'll say it. Sometimes, as the spouse of an Army Reservist, I really don't feel like "supporting our troops." Sometimes, I get a little irritated that I have to do his chores while he goes off to school for three or six weeks or to jump out of perfectly functioning aircraft for the weekend or to see the other wife I'm convinced he has. In "Honduras." Sometimes I think I will strangle the next person who asks me where my husband is when I get bored enough to venture out of the house socially on my own for the thirty-dozenth time.
I know, I know. I'm supposed to think, "At least he's not deployed." Which is true. If nothing else, being a military spouse will teach you not to take things for granted. Although, for all I know, maybe they really did send him to another country. How would I really know? Sure, he said he was driving past the Gaffney peach on his way to jump school, but where was the photo?
They say art makes good therapy, so out of frustration, I made these little stickers, which I printed onto label paper in order to then stick onto some badges I have lying around the house. Perhaps I will make a t-shirt someday.