I heard them commiserating with Steve. "Seems there is nothing to prevent the return of routine," Zso put her head on his chest and sighed. "I guess the party is over and it is time to go back to work."
It felt long ago that we had marched through the steps of breakfasting, dressing for the office, and putting the needs of the day at hand so that dad could back down the drive by 9:30am. Secretly, I think the WDA was hoping for SOMETHING to keep him home with us. That routine had become all too comfortable.
All watched him go and howled our wish for him to hurry home. And White Dog went to check the calendar for the NEXT holiday.
"Good news is," I told them, "the weekend is just two days away."
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