My son came to work with me today.
He had a school holiday, and while he’s capable of staying home alone, he didn’t want to be by himself for so many hours. I don’t blame him.
So, this morning, he packed up his laptop, his headphones and his charging cord, and he prepared to hunker down in my office for the better part of 10 hours.
We dropped his brother off at school (amidst wails of “It’s not fair.”), and we headed to work.
Luke didn’t make a peep for four hours until I said I was getting hungry. His agreement was instantaneous.
I think he was expecting to hit up a fast food joint, but I upped the ante on him. We went to The Butcher Shop, a local favorite that specializes in burgers, homemade desserts and grinding their own beef. We’d been a few other times when Luke’s soccer team played in town for tournaments.
He was beyond thrilled.
Over burgers and a shared order of fries, I realized that I almost never get time alone with my boys one-on-one. The other boy is always around. Don’t get me wrong: I wouldn’t trade the company for the world, but it’s nice to have alone time, too.
We talked about all kinds of things, topics we may not have touched on had his older brother been with us.
I left lunch feeling very satisfied and not just from the burger and fries. My heart was full, and I realized that I need to schedule time alone with each son on a regular basis.