Today, at work, I had one of those days that makes me feel like I'm serving a professional life sentence with no chance of parole.
It was after 9 p.m. when I finally pulled up to our house. As I trudged wearily up the front sidewalk, still wearing my suit and tie, I looked up and saw John Patrick looking out at me through the large oval piece of glass in our front door. He was smiling and bouncing up and down, so excited to see me. He was wearing a bath towel, like a cape.
I smiled back at him, then laughed. At least for the moment, the worries from my day were gone.
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