Convos With K

Conversations on shoulders 

K: Dada!

J: Yeah?

K: ZZZZZZ

K: Dada! The wind... Zzzzzz.

J: You asleep bud?

K: Dada! The wind is blowing my eyes shut.

J: Likely story bud.

Self

I've realized lately that I spend remarkably little time now paying any attention at all to myself.

In the midst of getting the kids up and dressed and fed and shoed and finding snacks and milk and getting out the door... I'm lucky if I've remembered to put clothes on myself.

Now admittedly, so far the neighbors haven't seen me randomly naked outdid my door... But I'm not completely sure that day is not coming.

As it is, often my hair fits the idea of 'crazy-overworked-barelyholdingontohismind-Dad'

(I'm probably not most of those things... Maybe a little crazy... Definitely a Dad)

Eventually, I'll see my reflection in a window or puddle or something of the diet and go for a quick and half assed correction on it.

But it matters less and less all the time.

Soon I'll just wear pajamas wherever I go. It's about my comfort and sanity... Everyone else be dammed.

As long as the kids get out the door that is.