…saying “It’s blue outside, Daddy!  Time to wake up…. Daddy, WAKE UP!” Wasn’t ready to be up or try even minusculely to keep with his pace.  I can never keep up with Jack, or even his 1 year-old sister, it seems anymore.  Just before putting Emma down, we played in the kitchen.  Done with her milk, she fiddled with some of her brother’s cars, would throw them on the ground, I would pick up and put them back on the tray, then down to the floor they again went.  Yielding to my exhaustion, I picked her up, took her upstairs to her enviably comfortable crib, set down the little beat.  Now, finally, time for the tired writing father, but he doesn’t know what to do, what to write…

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