When the Day Goes Badly…Who Makes You Better?

It’s been a rough week, and it’s not even Friday yet.

The day started with a college-bound kid sick who wasn’t doing very well.  That includes making smart decisions, partly because being sick you don’t think straight, and partly because common sense just hadn’t kicked in yet.

It moved to work having craziness all its own: multiple checks on people, court documents, ID checks, backgrounds . . . none of them for the story I was currently working on for the day.  Then came an argument for a different story with a state agency that had my blood pressure rising.

Next . . . the text from my other daughter . . . that “some kid knocked me off the bus and I dropped my phone and now the screen is cracked!”  That phone?  She got it in July.  Today it’s October.  Yep . . . just over 3 months.  This comes after Santa got her a small laptop for Christmas that . . . yep . . . broken in March. Seeing a power of 3 trend here anywhere?

Oldest gets better because she followed my advice . . . that works.

A script that’s been re-written at work has to be re-written again . . . for a 4th time.

State agency calls and aggravates me again.

Son calls and says “since we’ve got all this stuff to do this weekend I need to do my science project today and tomorrow . . . can you pick up [insane amount of material for science project with some select profanities deleted] at Target for me?”

“Dad, the power’s out and the milk is spoiled.”

By the time I got home I was fried.  I had plans for BBQ chicken and rice with some carrots . . . and we had frozen pizzas.  The ice cubes in the freezer had melded into one giant ice cube due to their partial meltdown.  Said meltdown had caused a puddle on the floor that . . . you guessed it . . . was still there when I got home from Target at 7:30pm.

Noah, my son, met me in the kitchen dancing and waiting for a reaction.  Most days it’s sorta cute, a little annoying, but harmless.  Today I attempted a smile and just couldn’t do much.  He looked crestfallen and I felt bad.

“It’s just been a rough day, kiddo.”

He looked.
“Can I help you with dinner?”
“It’s just frozen pizzas.  You can turn the oven on to 400 for me.  That would help.”
“I thought you were making chicken!”
“I was, Noah, but it’s 7:30 already . . . you really going to criticize my dinner choices tonight?”
“No.  Sorry.”

I took off my jacket, pulled the shirt tails out, threw the pizzas in the oven and plopped onto the couch.  Tilting my head back to search for some sort of peace I felt the cushion next to me depress from a little person’s weight and felt a little body sidle up next to me.  I opened my eyes and looked down to see Noah leaning up and hug me in the midsection.  I looked down to see his bright blue eyes staring up at me.

“Need a hug monkey?”
He smiled as he looked up at me.

“No . . . you need one, Dad.”

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