After finding out the train was down last night, Doug and I headed for the bar.
In the past, I probably would have hung out guilt-free for a couple of hours after calling Momma J to tell her I was stranded. Now, knowing that I’m needed at home for the evening shift, I found myself continually looking at my watch wondering how I was going to get home by eight.
I don’t think Doug noticed too much because he was itching to get to a band practice, which amazingly all of the members made in the end. But I found it odd to have my mind occupied by the weight of responsbility to my family.
For some I think this feeling is a burden, and they find themselves thinking of the good old days. But I can truly say I love coming home to them both. When I walk in the door, I usually rush over to grab the little fella’s big cheeks, which always makes him smile and laugh.
In the end, things turned out fine last night and I was at home in my PJs by 7:30. By 9 me and the little guy had passed out in the living room. And when he woke me up at 11:30 with his feeding whine, I promptly handed him over to his ma and hit the sack, leaving the blog for another day.
Home life may not be too exciting right now, but I love it just the same. I wonder if I’ll be singing the same tune when he is teething in four months.