I finally felt well enough today to set about dismantling Christmas, a task I dislike enough to regularly question how badly I want to set everything up to begin with. It took a couple hours, but once the tree was undecorated and out of the living room, I could finally relax again. Everything was once again in its place, all was right with the world.
Miles, five minutes later:
“Daddy!” he said before bed. “Can you not clean up my pick-up truck tonight?” In case anyone was wondering exactly what this was.
I did not clean it up.
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 