Another Day, Another Dollar.

Growing up, I remember my dad saying one of three things when asked about his day at work.

* Another day, another dollar *

* Oh, just another day at the mine * (He didn't work at a mine. At least I don't think he did.)

I don't quite remember the third. I think it was something about a dragon. It'll come to me. Tonight. About 1 AM.

I worked today. Joe spent the day with the boys. He wished all week I'd be called off. He does that. Every. Time. I'm. Scheduled. He says it's because he loves to have me around. Do you believe him? 

He is a great dad. For this, I'm grateful. I leave for work long before the rooster crows. Or would crow if we had one. But we don't. But I won't get into that here. Not today. But I'll just say if the rooster did crow, I'd already be at work. 

Joe makes breakfast. If I were to guess, I'd guess pancakes. He doesn't need the recipe anymore. And they are delicious. He makes the boys lunch. And dinner. Joe runs around with them, and rolls around. Steamroller to be exact. Takes a strong stomach.

Oh, and no living room furniture.

Then he puts the boys to bed. And sometime before midnight I roll back into town. Quite a bit before midnight on a good day. 

Boys are well taken care of. Don't usually worry about them all day. Walk in the door, shower and go to bed. That's where I'm headed. To. Bed. But before I get there, I always say a prayer of thanks for indoor plumbing.