Zane’s Trains & Deadlinemobiles

The train in the distance was a talking one. It was solving problems of its own creation. Contrary to popular belief I did not love the sound of it. Moral of the story? Even Paul Simon misses a trick now and again.

The sounds in my office included the tapping of fingers on keys, a cat meowing to be let in, and the hum of the dishwasher. My office is all about location.

The air was thick with coffee and maple syrup.

My wife was at work. The oldest son was at school. The 4-year-old, Zane, was halfway into many things at once, and he was bored with all of them. I looked at a list of deadlines that must be met and I set myself to meeting them.

Working at home is like living at work. I meet my children for talks around the water cooler. We play games when we shouldn’t. We steal each other’s lunches, and fill the microwave with so many bags of burned popcorn. We tend to cut out early.

Most days are just me and Zane. I work and he hovers around me. His words go in one ear and I write some others.  Our time is defined by quantity over quality.

It is Friday, which makes it hard to get things done, like Monday but with promise. There is the hint of holiday in the air, we both feel it—two days without a single thing to do. It is what I hold on to.

It is how I justify a child sitting alone in another room while I type away like ten thousand monkeys. I told him there would be bananas.

The train in the distance rolled through the credits. Nothing changed but the channel.

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