Confessions of a Type A Workaholic
How my 4-year-old daughter cured my lifelong workaholism with one sentence…
Chloe: Daddy?
Me: *lost deep in thought*
Chloe: sounding really hurt: “Daaaddy?”
Me: her pain pierced through my melancholy: “Yes, Chloe” I answered meekly.
Chloe: looking pained, “Why don’t you want to play with me?”
Me: feeling terrible. “Of course I want to play with you, cutie pie” I smiled. “It’s just Daddy’s having some business issues….
I work so hard…