All the kids were in town over the weekend for the first time in, well, a long time.
We needed to be somewhere at Noon this past Sunday. A couple of hours before departure I went to remind them of that. Tapping on their bedroom doors, as they all slept in their childhood bedrooms, I informed each, "Let's go. We have to be there at 12."
I hadn't had to do that in ages. For one Sunday morning I was a Dad again. It felt good. How they felt, I don't know.
But I'm the Dad. They're the ones who have to adjust to that.
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