Me: sitting at the table downstairs this morning, eating breakfast.
Aidan (2 years old): coming down the stairs sleepily, saying “Daddy, you’re not going to work today?”
Me: “It’s a workday today, Aidan. I have to go to work.”
Aidan: right beside me now, with big liquid eyes and a sad face. “But I will miss you!”
I’ll miss you too, dude. Sometimes life sucks.
. . .
. . .
Later, on the way home, talking to Teresa on the phone, Aidan pipes up: “Daddy, were you makin’ money?”
Clearly, I’m a counterfeiter by trade.
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