Yesterday's post got me thinking about how my dad used to take us to church while my mother stayed home. I used to think it was because of her differences with the capital-C Catholic Church, which it probably was in part, but now that I am a mom myself I realize the obvious: she just wanted some time to herself. She got to sleep in and have a few hours alone while my dad took us all to church and out to brunch at our favorite greasy spoon diner, Roma's (which unfortunately closed many years ago).
Another slap to the forehead: my dad did not take us to work on Saturday afternoons because we enjoyed it, or because he wanted to spend time with us. We did love it, though. In my own work now when I come across old case files in those brown accordion folders with the elastic fastener, I get a very incongruous case of the warm fuzzies. I guess I never really stood a chance.