Back to reality …

Back-to-Work Mommy grabs her keys and plants a well-placed kiss on each child. She blows through the kitchen toward the garage and heads for the car.
The garage door cranks up, the engine turns over and the car slowly backs down the driveway.
Daytime Dad wants to run into the street and lie down, protestor-style.
He thinks better of it, however, because he’s pretty sure Little One #1 would later attempt such a stunt.
She pops the car in drive, gives us a wave and grudgingly heads off to work, her first day back since the arrival of Little One #2 in early summer.
Daytime Dad pulls back from the window and takes a seat on the stairs.
He looks at Little One #1. Then Little One #2.
Suddenly, Daytime Dad realizes, he is out-numbered.
Little One #1 runs around in circles and turns on the radio. Little One #2 sits in her infant chair. She isn’t hungry now, but Daytime Dad knows she will be, and soon, too.
Daytime Dad hopes he remembers to prepare the bottle in time.
For now, he ponders the situation again.
Two kids. One parent. Eight hours.
What to do, what to do.
“Let’s take a nap!” he says to both kids.
“I’m not tired!” hollers Little One #2, who, indeed, only woke up about an hour before.
Little One #2 grunts, clearly in disagreement as well.
OK, no nap.
What to do, what to do.
“I know,” Daytime Dad says, “let’s play!”
Little One #1 breaks out into convulsions and screams, “BLOCKS!”
Little One #2 says nothing, but will go along for the ride if for no other reason because she has no choice.
So Daytime Dad and his two children head to the playroom for a wooden block adventure. It’s here, where imaginations fly.
In seven hours, Back-To-Work Mommy will be home. What condition the house is in when she returns — and family, for that matter — remains to be seen.
Daytime Dad watches Little One #1 make a bridge — or is it a road? He watches Little One #2, who is stargazing at a star-less ceiling.
Reality is here again, with both parents working.
This is going to be interesting.

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