The Homecoming

I straightened down the wrinkles on my black lace tank top and adjusted the straps on my shoulders.  I questioned whether I should grab my coat, but I knew I didn't want to be holding anything when I saw him.  
I tried on a few different outfits that night.  The first two were snug dresses that revealed every curve on my body, but I 'aint no size two, so I opted for skinny jeans and a spaghetti strap tank that bordered on lingerie.  It was far more revealing that what I was familiar with, but far more conservative than the first two.  He would be coming home after 6 months, and I wanted to rock his world at first glance, so I took a risk, and boy would I regret it.
Days before his arrival, I googled homecomings, asked my experienced milspouse friends, and read up on everything I could to make sure we'd have an amazing first homecoming.  His flight would be arriving late at night, so I decided to pretend I was going out with friends and had my girls do a sleep over at a friends house.  They had no idea their dad would be coming home, and I wanted to surprise them later.  With everything I read and heard, I was pretty certain I was fully prepared for an all out amazing homecoming, however none of it would prepare me for how it would really go down.  
It was 40 degrees outside and I opted to forgo the jacket.  Surely, I could make the walk from my car to the airport just fine, it was late and I could only imagine the small airport would be mostly empty.  I should have assumed otherwise when I pulled into the parking lot to find very little parking spaces available, and the ones that were were the farthest away from the entrance.  I parked and grabbed my little clutch and started speed walking through the parking lot.  It was extremely cold and I quickly regretted the tank that left very little to the imagination.  
When I made it inside I was surprised to see our city's tiny airport packed with guests.  I immediately felt scantly clad and wrapped my arms across my chest trying to appear as natural as possible.  I made it up the walkway, unsure where he would be arriving from, when I received a text that his plane landed but they were stuck on the tarmac for a bit.  I was partly relieved because my nerves of seeing him were making my stomach turn, but also a bit bummed because I wasn't comfortable in my outfit among the crowd.  
When I arrived to the top of the escalator I saw a familiar face and my stomach dropped.  His shop's NCOIC (or overall supervisor) was standing there.  He saw me immediately and smiled.  
Oh frick.  He's the last person I wanted to see me so exposed. 
As I walked up to him, my arms crossed over my chest, he introduced his Squadron Commander to me.  I extended my arm to shake his hand.  I felt humiliated at my exposure.  He was kind, appropriate, and quickly turned an walked away and stood on the other side of the group.   
Wrong!  He's the last one I wanted to see me so exposed.  Get me out of here.
I looked around at the crowed and noticed EVERYONE wearing sweatpants and big baggy jackets.  To be fair it was cold outside, but had I missed a memo somewhere when reading up on homecomings?  I was the only one dressed up.  Other spouses were even dressed comfortable and warm.  I stood out horribly among what felt like his entire CE Squadron in the airport that evening.  I slowly walked over to the corner and attempted to hide behind a pole as I waited.  The anticipation was torture.  Not only was I desperate to get the heck out of dodge, but I also wanted to see him so bad.  
Then he walked out.  He was wearing light grey shorts and a t shirt.  Great.  Even he was dressed down.  He looked exhausted but happy to see me.  He shook the hand of his NCOIC but his eyes never left mine.  He walked up, wrapped his arms around me tight, and kissed me.  We opted against having any photos taken.  I wanted to take in the moment purely for my memory, instead of feeling like I had to perform for pictures (although in hindsight, I would have photos taken, because it was going to be the least intimate moment I could have imagined).  
As he hugged me, I whispered in his ear, "I'm not wearing much, you need to get me out of here."  He hadn't even noticed my outfit (ugh, he didn't even notice!), so he looked down, gave me a smirk, then grabbed my hand and led me to the baggage terminal.  Giddy, I was ready to both be alone with him as well as be far away from the crowd, but if my night could get any better, it wasn't going to just yet.  The bags were delayed and the crowds formed around us again as we waited.  His friends came up, tried chatting and I continued to try and hide away, pretending my arms provided a shell that could make me invisible.  
We finally got his bags, and he promised to whisk me away, finally getting me far out of reach of anyone's sight and alone with him.
So, if you're reading this and wondering how you should prepare for your spouse's homecoming, keep in mind that people most likely will be there.  Maybe save that lingerie top for when you two are finally alone.