“Why are your kids late to school today?”

That question throws me into existential crisis.
Was it because Oscar tipped over his milk,
Emma needed that thing signed,
the extra minute I took in the shower?
Or maybe it’s deeper
I should have woken up earlier
or gone to bed earlier
or gotten married at 25 instead of 19
certainly meaning that I would have at least one less kid
and a higher earning potential
allowing me to hire a maid.
I usually answer: “Poor life choices.”

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