In the Moment

It was Friday evening.  It had been a long week at work.  I was sick and tired and fried and beat.  Amy and I had just put the kids to bed and were settling into our usual Friday evening routine of watching TV and catching up when a call came from upstairs: "Daddy, our night light is broken." 

Somehow, I was able to yell three things simultaneously: "I'll deal with it in the morning," "Keep your door open and the hallway light on," and "Go to sleep."  At least in my mind, they happened all at once instead of one after the other.  At any rate, I didn't otherwise move an inch.  Amy went upstairs and dealt with the night light.

I regretted not helping but was too burnt out to try.  But it did remind me that Amy is much better than I am at dealing with life as it happens, rather than on the terms we would hope to set for it.  The kids know how much I do and sacrifice and give for them, so they obviously do not doubt that I am a loving father and that I care for them dearly.  But sometimes care means you get up off the couch and deal with something in the moment, and that's where Amy shines and I do not.  I am thankful for her.