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.