It’s days like today that make the rest of life worth it, you know?
The snow fell softly outside the window, gently covering our part of the world in a slushy blanket of white. Since we allowed our front yard to die this last summer in order to do a low-water yard, it melts faster on the part of our lawn that have turned to bare dirt.
The kids, of course, were simply beside themselves with misery.
Sara lay crying on the couch as I drifted downstairs from a comfy-snuggle session with my wife of nine years. I glanced her way. Her eyes implored me to ask her what was wrong. However, I knew exactly what was wrong, so I refused to do what her silent glare tried to tell me I must do. I smiled, nodded, and kept walking into the kitchen, returning a few glasses to the dishwasher.
Sara kept sobbing.
I walked past on my way back upstairs, paused, and said “Sara, I understand you’re upset about something. Your crying tells me you really don’t want to talk about it right now, and that’s OK. As soon as you feel like asking me, I’ll be happy to help however I can.” I returned upstairs, tucked my six-months-pregnant wife in for her afternoon nap, then again returned to the main floor of our three-floor townhome to do a bit more cleaning in the kitchen. Sara interrupted me on my trip.
“Dad, I’m so sad! Nobody can play today! Katherine isn’t home, Madison is busy, Emily’s mom is sick…” she began, then trailed off with an ‘entertain me, Dad!’ kind of look.
“Well, that’s pretty sad,” I responded. “Have you tried asking if any of them can play over here?”
She siezed on this idea and called.