Although I have nothing funny to fume about to appease Hadji, I'll tell you what I did with Nick, my 5-year old on Monday. He had been asking me for weeks to come to work with me. Finally, I caved and we decided that it would be July 1. Well, for the 2 weeks before that, he would ask me every night at bedtime if he was going with me in the morning. No, I said, not for another week. Last Wednesday night, he woke up at 3 a.m., sat bolt upright in bed, and announced that us "men" had to get ready to go to work. 15 seconds later, he was snoring again. Finally, Sunday night came, and he was all atwitter with boyish anticipation. He wanted me to iron his dress pants, and his "man shirt". I lent him one of my old ties, gelled his hair like Gordon Gecko, gave him an old pager and cell phone, some business cards with his name, and filled an old briefcase with some papers, pens, crackers, and one of his favorite fire engine Hot Wheels. We "shaved", put on some after shave, grabbed our coffee/juice, and headed out for our big day. I let him sit in the front seat. He was so proud.
When we got to the office, he was simply amazing. Everything I had taught him came out as if rehearsed for weeks. "Pleased to meet you, sir. Yes, Ma'am. No, thank you. No, sir. You look very nice today. It was nice to meet you. Etc." The best, though, was he did my favorite cheese-ball move: the finger gun point with the double cheek click. (Read it again slowly and you'll almost see Herb Tarlick doing it.) As we were driving for me to drop him off at Grandpa's for the afternoon, he said, "Dad, this was the best day of my life. I love you, daddy."

*sniff* I promised my self I wouldn't do this. *sniff* Little fucker......