Story 9:
My son had to build a volcano for his science class. I work long shifts and barely sleep, but he was so excited that I couldn’t say no. We stayed up past midnight with glue, paint, and a mess that I knew no one would clean up for me. The next morning, the volcano collapsed on the kitchen table. He looked at me, heartbroken. “I can skip school,” he whispered. Instead, I called in late to work—something I never do—and we built another one. This time, it was smaller. Simpler. Stronger. At school, his teacher knelt beside him and said, “This is great! Did your mom help you?” He looked at her and said, “No, just my dad. He’s kind of awesome.” I don’t think I’ve ever been more tired. Or more proud.
