Night shifts.

I encouraged my little one to whisper around his sleeping father that had just fallen asleep after another 20 hour shift. There have been too many of those lately. The little one was immersed in cartoons so I was able to quickly get ready for work and him for pre-school.

As I’m ironing, I hear “MOOOOOOOOOMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEE,” bellowed up the stairwell. I whisper back, “what do you need?” I was thinking he needed more milk or maybe a bathroom break.

“You,” is the reply that I receive.

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