4AM: I’m up before the sun. I’m up before my son. I rush around the house, getting ready in the dark. I splash some water on my face and rub my eyes. It’s so early.
5AM: I’m on the way to work. There’s another accident on the way. Why is traffic always so bad? I add another thirty minutes onto my day.
6AM: I made it to work on time, but the express lane cost me a pretty penny. I sit at my desk, log into my computer, and check my emails for the day. I glance at my calendar and see I have a meeting. Off I go!
7AM-2PM: More of the same. Meetings. Emails. Projects. Deadlines. Work. Work. Work.
3PM: I’ve made it home.
I park my car in the driveway and head towards my front door. My key turns in the lock and I slowly open it. And that’s when it happens – my favorite time of day.
My little boy is sitting on the living room floor. He’s playing with his banana toothbrush (his favorite toy today). He looks up at the sound of my entrance and his eyes light up. A giant smile crosses his face. I feel it in my heart.
He starts to bounce up and down, his arms outstretched waiting for me to pick him up. I place my things on the kitchen counter and scoop him right up. I kiss him repeatedly. On the cheek, on his lips, on his head, on his neck, and on his belly. I kiss that little baby all over as he giggles at the tickles and pushes me away.
He squirms and squeals as I toss him in the air. I catch him, hug him tight, and whisper I missed you.
This is my favorite time of day. I spend my hours at work longing for this moment. Every minute that my little boy is not in my arms is agonizing. As I drive home on my commute every afternoon – I anticipate that smile, those eyes, that laugh.
My son is my favorite person. My home is my favorite place to be. This is my favorite time of day.