Fintan's perspective on the adult world

Every morning I see Fintan up and about. He is the second earliest riser in the family, needing to do so, to get ready for school. I am the earliest.

Every morning he asks me the same question, perhaps hoping for a different answer, as I stand by the door saying goodbye:

"Where are you going Daddy?"

"To work." I say, ritually.

Today, Fintan's response was a little different. "Again?" He cried, aghast. It was as if his tone had said: haven't you done that already?

There was no reply to that. After all, he had fully captured how I sometimes feel!

I left for work. Again.