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Wounded

Every night at bed time for two toddlers is a struggle. Tonight, nothing was much different. 'Cept I was "wounded" in the battle. Carter told me, "Daddy, I don't like you anymore. Get away from me. You're not my friend" ... Man. I'd rather have taken a punch to the face. My boys are the one thing in life I have always done right by and a comment like that really stings when all you are trying to do is what's best. I don't think he meant it. Actually, I know he didn't mean it. But that doesn't mean it hurt. Sleep tight, son. Daddy loves you ... always.

Heard At My House

Momma ... this taste better than the food I have at school! -Bailey