I like to have my arrival home from work every day be an exciting event for the boys. I have to admit that this is as much for me as it is for them. I’ve read and heard about too many dads who get home from work only to be ignored by their kids.

So when I get home, I’m loud. I typically give big shouted hellos, helicopter hugs, tickle attacks, and all sorts of things. I don’t let them get away with a simple wave or distracted “hi dad.” 

It’s actually pretty fun, and has worked out pretty well. Usually, my arrival home is much like the one Norm used to get when he arrived at the bar on Cheers. Of course, they shout “Daddy!” instead of “Norm!”

Lately, however, we’ve had illnesses travelling around the family. Each of us has had a turn being sick, usually with some significant overlap. It has been C’s turn to be sick the past few days.

How sick you ask?

Well, when I got home the other day, I found him lying on the couch, covering his head with a pillow.

I bounced over for my customary greeting, and he stuck one hand out from under the pillow. “I’m taking a nap.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Naps are my favorite thing in the whole world. I love naps.”

Wow. That’s sick.