You know how happy it makes me when someone gets the song reference in my title, so please, someone do.
My husband has always been committed to coming home in time to give his children a bath. I then collect the freshly-laundered progeny and do book time before we tuck them into bed. J wants to be a part of this process because he knows how much his own father missed when he was a boy.
My father-in-law was involved as much as he could be, but he worked hard and often had long stretches when he saw his sons very little. J wants to avoid his father’s regrets, and so he has long had a policy of making it home for bath unless he is traveling.
But then, he is often traveling. And then there are the nights he needs to stay late. And the client needs something by tomorrow morning. And why bother even coming home when it is an hour drive from the client and he is working till 10:00 and starting again at 6:00 the next morning? And, then it becomes easier to just assume he won’t be home.
And, suddenly, since moving here, the regular time to get home is no time at all.
I am used to it. When we lived in Philadelphia, he traveled a lot, and I held down the fort on my own. It is my job to support the family in my way just as it is his to support the family in his way, and we’re doing the best we can.
But, this week, things are slow, and J is going to be home every evening for bath, which nowadays looks like a luxury instead of a standard practice.
“Daddy is reading books tonight,” Zachary announced for the second night in a row last night.
“Honey, I want to read books. How about if Daddy does one and I do one?”
“OK, Mommy. The reason I want Daddy to read books is because he isn’t home very much in the nighttime and so I want him to read to me.”
“That makes sense, Zach.”
“I don’t know why I got to see him so much in London but I don’t get to see him so much in Los Angeles,” the boy continued.
And, as I gathered him into my lap to try to explain, I could hear the click of the circle coming full.