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Note: This article was originally posted via Squarespace on a domain name I no longer own. I am consolidating all of my ramblings and drabble here.

I really don’t like my mornings anymore. It’s not that they’re bad in general, it’s just one small portion that I don’t care for.

I drop Carter off at his daycare. The problem is, he’s figured out exactly what this means. When Dad comes in and wakes him up, he’s extremely happy. He loves to run around and play, even while Dad is changing him. Then… it happens.

He suddenly realizes that he has to go do daycare today. It happens at different times. Sometimes it’s when I’m putting his shoes on, other times it’s right before I drop him off with Julie in the room. No matter what, though, it never fails. His eyes well up with tears, he starts to cuddle. He may be thinking “What did I do wrong? Am I in trouble? Why is he leaving me here?”

Not in trouble, kid. Dad just has to go to work.

Right. YOU try explaining that to a 2 year old.