I rarely have a bad day at work. I love the people there and I like the work, for the most part. There are occasions, however, when things don't go well. I'm sorry I can't be specific, but I don't talk much about work here. Suffice to say that I was so angry I was trembling and felt like vomiting. It didn't help that I hadn't had anything to eat and have been working on very little sleep since Princess Rufflebutt was born. I fumed the entire day, still growling to myself about it during the drive home. When I got home, the first person I saw was my three yr. old. He was looking out the window and excitedly shouting, "Dad's home! Dad's home." I went in the house and he hugged me and said, "I love you, Dad." I instantly felt better.
Later, at dinner, we were talking about Rufflebutt. My wife said, "She sure is cute," to which my five yr old replied, "You're kinda cute yourself, Mom."
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