Family Man

Almost every weekday is the same. I wake up and get ready for work, then I get the kids and wife out of bed and make sure everyone has breakfast and is ready for the day. I make sure to pack the kids’ lunch and tell them to brush their teeth and comb their hair. Adeline always protests, but she’s at that age where everything I say is followed by a question.

From the time I was young, I always pictured myself living an idyllic life as an American family man. In my visions of the future the sun was always shining, my wife was as beautiful as a picture, and my two children were equally so, getting their looks from their mother of course. When I was finally old enough, I found the woman of my dreams and made that vision a reality.

Some people dream of money, others fame, but all I ever really wanted was to have a family of my own.

I kiss my wife on the cheek and my two children on the forehead as I grab my jacket to head to work.

Just before I step out the door, I take a deep breath, smelling the morning air, then turn to them, smiling.

“I’ll be back before you know it. I love you all.”

From her seat at the table, pulling against the ropes around her wrists, my wife says “please, just let us go.”

Perhaps I’ll get a new family tomorrow. 

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