I went to work yesterday expecting not to see my son before I get home this evening. That's the curse of working a closing shift one day and opening the next with a two-hour commuteeach way. This morning I had a very special moment.
While the incessant chirp of the alarm clock wasn't enough to get me out of bed at 5:00 am, my son's crying was. It was a gentle cry, like something had awakened him and he was trying to get back to sleep. I snuck in quietly to checkon him.
My son is very much the product of his parents: he is a very active sleeper, tossing and turning throughout the night, sometimes rolling right out of bed onto the floor. This morning he had managed to kick his covers off and wascrying because he was cold.
I entered the room and pulled the cover over him, tucking him in. "Sing," he said. "Sing."
I quietly sang him his favorite Wiggles song as he quickly fell back to sleep.
It was the perfect start to the day. I didn't have to wait until tonight to see him after all.
Joe
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