I had to work a 12 hour day yesterday. We have an annual show many of our clients participate in, and it's hell week. Lot's to do, little time to do it. Anyway, when I finally got home I was able to spend just a few minutes with my daughter before putting her to bed. She asked why I had to work so much. I told her, and that it only happens every once in a while. She was concerned for me and asked if they (work) provided dinner. I thought this was cute in that she was not only looking out for my well being but that my efforts should be rewarded, in the very least, with something to eat. Truth was, I had a late Taco Bell lunch and wasn't hungry until I got home. None the less, this didn't sit well with my daughter. She said she would make me a lunch to bring to work.
This morning I woke Jamie when I got up as she had a little homework yet to do. She got up and promptly grabbed her folder. I took my shower. As I got dressed, I noticed she was busy in the kitchen. I thought she was making herself some breakfast. Nope. She was making my lunch! Unfortunately, because our fridge has been on the fritz, we didn't have to offer. So, I got a cheese sandwich with chips and some pudding. Nice! She also wrote a note, but I can't read it until lunch so I can't tell you what it says.
Anything. Anything she wants.