Coming Home Late

Last night I came home late from work. About two hours later than usual. When I walked through the door, the kids were done with their baths, pajamas were on, and 2/3 were on their way toward bed. I hugged them, kissed, them, laid them down, and walked out of their room. Then it hit me.

I was five minutes away from not seeing two of my kids at all today.

If I had delayed leaving work just five minutes, if there had been just a little more traffic, then it would not have mattered to them if I was in Africa...our day would not have involved each other at all. It kind of scared me.

It turns out that I am more fortunate than I thought to get to see my kids for a couple hours every evening. For those of you who miss that involuntarily, I am so sorry. For those that miss it voluntarily, I pity you. You are missing out on the whole point of having kids...your kids.

When I get home tonight, there will be screaming. There will be laughing. There will be fighting and playing and lots of noise. Some nights it is all a little overwhelming. At least tonight, though, I am going to love it.