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Simple Truth

Last night after I put the kids to bed, I was folding one of the dozens of loads of laundry that I like to use in my guilt arsenal towards John on the weekends, when Bryce quietly peered around my bedroom door. And honestly, it took every last ounce of strength I had not to jump out of my skin when he did that, because, MAN! THAT KID IS SNEAKY. He must have inherited my CIA genes.

After I composed myself without letting on to him that he almost caused my pre-mature death by heart attack among a pile of John's clean white undershirts, I asked him what he needed and got up to head back upstairs with him. "I just really miss Daddy," he said. We walked up the stairs, and his voice started to crack the way only an adult voice cracks when that adult is trying to keep from crying in front of his/her peers: "I miss him so much that I'm about to cry." I forgot about it all for a second: this complicated blended family, the new job, the braces; I said, "because you just love your Dad so much?" He said, in his still cracking voice, "Yeah." "Oh," I said, "and you always have such a great time with Dad!" And he said, brightening, "Yeah. I do. I love BOTH of you so much. I like being with both of you. And I wish you could stay home instead of going to work all the time."


"But you have such a great time at home with Dad, right? So that's good."

"Well, sometimes I do. But I like being with you sometimes, too. And I wish you could just be at home every day."

"Me too. But I do get to spend lots of time with you on the weekends. And that's a lot of fun. And during the week, you get to hang out with Dad."

"Yeah." *yawning, pulling up the covers* "I love you both so much."

I'm not really sure who he wanted when he originally came downstairs, and I'm not sure he was, either. Normally I would analyze this to death, but I think in this case, it's very, very simple.

And I can only hope they both still see things so simply in another 15 years. God, I hope I don't screw them up by then.

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