I stood infront of the front door. Just a moment longer than I usually did. I needed that moment to compose, to inhale, to let go of the day that was now behind me. Since my new manager stepped in days elevated to this level of frustration seemed to be getting more frequent. It seemed that the hair on my head was going to be pulled out at the root any day now. But that was work, now I am home and I need to be a father and a husband. I took yet another deep breath in, held it for a moment, and then pressed it out as my key reached the slot.
This was the signal. The sound of my key raising the locks inner levers was the signal for my smile to appear, and for me to put on my “its all okay” face and for the house to burst into a cacophony of sound. I could hear Emiko dropping her game controller and rushing to the door shouting “Daddy’s home.” It always made me think of those sailors that were away from home for years, returning back home. I loved this part, I remind myself that this is why I put up with all that office mess. Before I could fully open the door myself I could feel Emiko pulling it from her side. For a 6 year old she was tall, like her dad. She grabbed my waist tight and didn’t let go. With a slight tickle under her arms I got her to release her grip and picked her up for a more substantial hug.