Kavi kept saying this morning, I want Daddy. I want Daddy. I want Daddy. She must have said it at least twenty-five times, all in a row, despite my calm explanations that Daddy was up late working hard last night, and he was very tired now, and he had to sleep.
I have to say, some mornings it seems brutally unfair that I am always the one to get them ready and drop them off, and Kevin will get to pick them up and bring them home. I am the big mean witch, sending them off to toil in the dungeons of pre-school, and he is their rescuing knight.
My only consolation is the thought that some day, perhaps even someday soon, they will like school better than home. School is full of toys and games and friends and fun; home is boring. And then maybe Daddy will be the one dealing with tears and lamentations.