Glad It Isn't My Job...

Yesterday LP's day care had a two-hour delay. Since I was going into work late anyway, I was in charge of dropping her off. This is typically the Hoos' job. And man, am I glad it is his job, because I didn't like it.

Oh, it is easy enough to pack her bag, carry her into the school and unload her things: milk in the fridge, coat and hat removed and put in her bag, Valentines cards distributed to classmates and teachers... The hard part is the leaving.

From what I understand, when Daddy leaves LP hardly notices. She is too busy waiting for Miss Crystal to make her breakfast. As you can see, she loves to eat. Well, maybe it is because she already had breakfast with me at home, but as I turned to leave, my baby girl started whimpering. I am still feeling guilty to spending a night in Phoenix, so you can imagine that the sad noises were like salt in the wound. Miss Crystal had to pick LP up as I left.

When I got in the car, I couldn't help but notice how quiet it was. I was alone in the car. Usually when I leave the day care center, LP is with me and we are heading home for the night. I owe the Hoos big for taking on the job of drop off. Definitely better him than me.