Recently my wife was a single parent. I had taken my fatherly duties packed them in a suitcase and placed them next to the appropriate amount of underwear changes. And prayed that the airline wouldn't lose either.
I was away on business. I was leaving on a jet plane and other lyrics from the only Chantal Kreviazuk song I will admit to knowing. (Sorry, John Denver.)
All my bags were packed, I was ready to go.
I was the protagonist of a business travel airline commercial — giving my daughter a kiss before boarding and luxuriously flying the friendly skies. Except my daughter offered no kiss goodbye and airline travel is never as good as the commercials imply.
This recent trip was the longest time I'd ever been away from my wife and daughter. It was bizarre and surreal and allowed me to identify with contestants on reality shows who are tearfully reunited with family members they haven't seen for two weeks.
I missed my daughter.
I received a fragmented view of her day, snippets of her activities, the occasional photo was emailed. But by and large I was completely unaware of her activities. Turns out it's difficult to be an involved parent when you're a few area codes away.
It is however, easier to sleep in. It was a new kind of sleeping in, waking up at 7:30 instead of 5:30 or 6am. I slept quite soundly. There was no monitor to check. No midnight crying. No early morning fussing. I couldn't help but feel guilty for my uninterrupted sleep and considered asking the front desk for random middle of the night wake-up calls.
Despite my sound sleeping, I wondered what I was missing while I was away on business. At my daughter's age, things change so quickly, would she look different when I returned? Would we have to awkwardly reintroduce ourselves? Re-bond over some common interest? "You like nap time, too? Get out!"
To ensure my transition back to full-time fatherhood would go smoothly, I had to find the perfect gift to bring my daughter from my travels. Turns out the perfect gift for a toddler is anything touristy with the city name emblazoned on the front.
When I returned, I found I hadn't missed that much. My daughter could now properly pronounce our dog's name, say "grandma" and count to three. The counting was surprising, especially when it's followed by cackling and thundering sound effects.
She even seemed to miss me when I was gone. Apparently she tried to call me numerous times on the calculator at daycare. She must have had the wrong area code.
Oh, and I also missed my wife.
Follow @DaddyDistracted on Twitter, or "Like" him on Facebook.
Thought that was sweet? You'll enjoy: