First one home gets all the lovin’

If my dog is biased as to which one of us, my husband or I, he loves more, then it all comes down to whoever walks in the door first.
For almost all of his life, I’ve been the last one home at night. I didn’t even realize what I was missing out on.
Lately, Brent’s been working long hours and they keep getting longer and longer. For the first time I can remember, I’m now the one who walks in the door first.
Sensi is there waiting for me, his tail thumping the wall with every excited wag. He prances around excitedly, licking at my hands and knees, until I kneel down to greet him. Then he climbs up my lap, his heavy front paws balancing precariously on my thighs, and proceeds to lick every inch of my face for as long as I’ll let him.
The greeting isn’t done there, either. After Sensi’s doled out all the affection he can muster, he runs and grabs whatever toy has his fancy for that day and jovially teases me with it.
I like to think that he believes playing is as important to me as it is to him, so he’s being a good friend by trying to welcome me home with a good play session.
More often than not, I’m tired as can be and dreading the cleaning, cooking and more cleaning that awaits me. But I indulge him anyhow and usually find a quick game of keep away or tug gives me a little energy boost.
When I’m the second one home, on the other hand, I barely even get greeted. I’ve turned the corner into the kitchen before the dog even realizes I’m home and I’m usually setting my stuff down in the office before he slowly stretches his way off the couch and meanders over to me.
I might get a cursory hand lick, but Sensi’s only motivation to do that isn’t actually to greet me, but rather to begin begging for dinner.
This whole realization has made me think that if Sensi is biased about which one of us he loves more, at least we know it’s a pretty thin line. Whoever gets home first gets all the loving and that’s fair enough for me.