Homesickness

It's is a sneaky little blighter. You don’t realise you have it until your conscience reminds you that it’s probably crazy to blow up in your husband’s face for leaving a cupboard door open or a lone sock on the floor (granted it was centimetres away from the laundry basket and that just baffles me). It comes out after arguments:

‘Why are you crying? You can’t be that bothered about mildew on the shower curtain!’

‘I…miss…England.’

‘Oh. Come here.’

 It comes out when the doctor’s receptionist doesn’t understand your accent over the phone. It comes out when you discover that your cat plays fetch like a dog and you used to have a dog in England who also played fetch. It just comes out, however and wherever it pleases. But with deep breaths, planned trips back and the friendly faces of Texas people, you get over it every time.