March 20th, 1982
Tommy's not feeling well today, and Ali already left for the day shift, so guess who got to owl in and say he wasn't coming in to work? Things are slower than usual in my section of the department anyway at the moment, so they won't miss me for one day. I've got work here to keep me company, anyway. Mum won't be happy I'm not there for her to yell at in person.
Bloody hell, it feels good to be up and awake still dressed in pajamas. Of course, dealing with a sick child is hardly the ideal way to spend a day away from the office, but you've got to do what you've got to do. Besides, any chance for some quality father-son bonding is good.
Tommy was nine months old yesterday. It's amazing, the progress he's made. He's on the cusp of walking and talking, I can just feel it.