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…