The absolutely best time of my workday is 6 PM! That’s when I get to go where I most want to be: home. I am well aware of how blessed I am to belong to a family that makes it possible to feel this way. I know that there are many that think of “home” as the last place they want to be. But I love Mary, Rachel and Rebecca, and most of the time they love me. That’s what makes going home the best part of my day.
This may understandably come as news to my family, because I probably don’t exude joy upon my arrival at the homestead the way that I should. Indeed, being the creature of habit that I am, my “I’m home” routine is way too predictable. Unload my backpack, drink my Profibe cocktail, change into my “leisure suit,” and settle down in the La-Z-Boy to watch the NBC Nightly New with Brian Williams. Then I’ll watch other pre-recorded programs until it’s time to hit the sack at 8:30 (except for Thursday night when I may manage to stay awake until 9).
I just finished reading Daniel Gilbert’s essay in this week’s TIME, “Does Fatherhood Make You Happy?” Although I understand the point he is trying to make, it strikes me as just a little on the cynical side. I’m not happy to be a father because it is the only way I can reward myself for all the trials of parenthood. I’m happy to be a father because that’s what I get to be when I’m home!
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