My husband's eyes looked tired when I told him; perhaps he secretly wished he had married the girl next door. My 13 year old son said imperiously, No, sorry, you can't go, before adding, Can you bring me back a bullet proof vest? My 11 year old daughter hopped on one foot and then the other and simply said, Mommy, you won't miss the school play will you?
I patted my husband on the arm and told him not to worry. I informed my son in no uncertain terms that I wouldn't be bringing him back a bullet proof vest. And I told my daughter that I wouldn't dream of missing her in the school play.
And so it is that I am leaving for Afghanistan. Tomorrow. I'm waiting to write new tales. And I am looking back on those I've already written, like:
A tale of shopping with the bodyguard.
A tale of when the taliban came to town.
A tale of Kabul and remembering.
I'll be tweeting what I'm seeing if you'd like to come along.