A-a-ron 👨‍💻 👨‍🔬 📊

This morning was an absolute punch in the gut. My 5-year-old son is my best friend. I do everything I can to be home by 6pm every day so that I can spend an hour with him before he goes to bed. We play any and all sports together every weekend. We horseplay and crack each other up on a daily basis. We travel to sporting events in different cities across the country multiple times a year. We’re basically the same person, and I take pride in how close we are and how much time we spend together. I took him to school this morning like I do on many days, while I’m vaguely aware that the school invites parents to join the class for a half hour periodically - but I’m always in a rush to get the work day going after I drop him off, and I know my wife attends here and there. This morning on the ride to school, he looked at me and said softly, “I know your work is really important so you don’t need to stay for the parents coffee today.” Yikes. The parent mornings are a much bigger deal than I realized, and I learned in that moment he was bothered I’d never attended. What an unbelievable oversight on my part. You try to balance everything and keep up with so many demands from all directions. You think you’re a really good parent and take pride in it - and sometimes you miss the small things that make such a huge difference. At one point a teacher asked the kids what they were thankful for. He raised his hand: “I’m thankful that my dad is here.” No seven words have ever stung this much, and I’m going to make changes.