Tonight when I was putting my cute and freshly-bathed-and-pasta-fed boy to bed (for the third time) I broke the news...
Buddy, you have to stay in bed. You need to get good sleep because you have school in the morning.
But I don't wanna go to school. I want ta stay home and watch a show and be wiff you for da whole day.
Say it momma. Say, "But you have ta go to school because I have ta go to work. And Dad has ta go to work. " Den say, "Dat's just how it is, Adam."
And the veil of working mommy guilt settled heavily upon me.
The words I say so often in such a matter of fact way stung me.
Then my cute and too-smart-for-his-own-good boy said,
Den say, "Da best part of my day is seeing my sweet, sweet boy at five-firty."
And I did say it.
And it is true.
I cannot even begin to say how I cherish five-firty.