After a torrential weekend of mud, paint and primer I finally got to play and be with my wife and son. I did truly enjoy working on Jamie's parent's house doing the work I used to do 'back in the day' however I missed my little family. So, as the diligently working salesman that I am, I decided it was time to stay home from work on Tuesday. Boy was it worth it! I had the best time playing with Will, chasing Jamie around the house, going grocery shopping, it was AWESOME! Jamie and I even watched trashy reality TV together last night!
Will, feeling as though he had missed out on some of the family fun, decided to get up all throughout the late night/early morning. This resulted in me pretending to be a hero and put him back to sleep. As such I was VERY sleepy this morning. Will came in to bed with us in the morning after Jamie fed him breakfast and we tried to get him to nap; it didn't work. He flailed about kicking, hitting us (he used Milton as a hammer on daddy's head) and had a great time. I was tempted to play hooky once again, but then my desire to one day retire overtook my laziness; by a very thin margin mind you! So as I got ready he followed me about, watching me, playing in the closet, helping knock my shoes off onto the floor. Finally as I got to the garage he did his little walk up to me and grabbed on to my legs. He saw me grab the keys and open the door and he started begging to be held. As the garage door opened he became very VERY sad and then the unthinkable happened. The door closed and dad went to the car. Tears immediately pored down his face and he began to cry. Jamie opened the door to show him everything was just fine... (for who?). So this is how I drove to work... My son's tear stained face wandering in the back of my mind as I wondered if I really needed to go to work today, if it was really necessary, why I couldn't just work from home everyday. The great tragedy is for the next 5-10 years I am going to be working just about the hardest I can for this mythical dream of being able to retire and be there for my kids when they are older. The reality; however, is at 10-12 years old my hero's mantle will fall; dad's cool black civic won't be so cool and playing trains won't be fun with dad anymore. Alas that is the price I must pay for the great honor of fatherhood; to charge in like Henry V's m
en, "unto the breach, dear friends, once more" to the world of finance to earn a living so that I may enjoy the serene moments of being a father and husband. To watch my son's face at the taste of his first sugar high, to see him scream for joy when he figures our a new toy, and to watch peace fall upon my wife as she fades into the realms of sleep untouched by the demands of this world. Ok, so it's a small price, guess I am lazier than I thought!
But the most important thing of the weekend:
