August 14: Hallo, This Time of Day, Back to Work

"Hallo!" growled Scrooge, in his accustomed voice as near as he could feign it.  "What do you mean by coming here at this time of day?"

Scrooge is toying with Bob Cratchit here.  He knows Bob is going to be late for work.  Scrooge himself sent the turkey that pretty much guaranteed Bob would be making "rather merry" the day before.  He fully expects Bob to be tardy.

This morning I go back to work.  I will miss my kids.  I will miss hearing my son call out "I want to get up!" when he wakes.  I will miss going into my daughter's dark room mid-morning to rouse the sleeping crocodile that is my eldest offspring.  I will miss running in the morning, swimming in the afternoon.  Most of all, I will miss the connection I have with my children right now.  My son actually calls for me in the morning.  My daughter told me yesterday that she had "the best day ever."

Society casts mothers as the nurturers, the ones who are always there to pick the kids up from school, make the lunches, give the baths, help with homework, change the diapers.  As a nurturing father, that bothers me a little bit.  Granted, there are fathers who are removed and distant, who would rather go to a business meeting than a parent/teacher conference.  I am not one of those fathers.  I like making cookies for my children and planning their birthday parties.  I love all that stuff.

Maybe Saint Marty was Carol Brady in another life.

I used to have this same outfit