Perspective

Me: “I’m feeling stressed.”

My Oldest, age 16: “How stressed?”

Me: “Uh…”

Oldest: “Like, on a scale of 1 to Winona Ryder in Stranger Things, how stressed are you?”

(long pause)

Me: “I guess I’m not all that stressed.”

Oldest: “Glad I can help.”

Glad I Could Help

Danger Monkey, age 9: “Daddy, do you want to help us build a fort in the living room?”

Me: “Sorry, kiddos. You get a snow day, but I have to work all day just like a normal day.”

Little Miss Thing, age 6: “Woo-hoo! That makes it even better!”

Me: “You’re welcome. I think.”

(Works for 10 hours straight)

Me: “I’m having a bad day.”

(Thermostat broken at work, temps at desk hit over 80 deg)

Me: “I’m having a horrible day.”

(Didn’t have time, completely skipped dinner.)

Me: “I’m having a horrible, horrible day.”

(Watches the Lifeline helicopter take off from the hospital helipad next to my parking garage)

Me: (slow blink)

Me: “You know, I’m having a pretty good day.”