Of Firetrucks and Stocking Stuffers

I left home for work today at eight thirty in the morning. I had six hours of class at the high school, three in the morning and three after lunch. When I finished I went and picked up my daughter from school and then took her home. I had supper at home with my family. And then I had to leave for work again.

A package arrived from Canada today. It was a box of Christmas presents, one each for my wife and me but mostly for our children. My son and my daughter each opened one; my daughter got a baseball glove, my son a Lego fire truck set. My boy being the way he is opened it up right away and started working on it. He wanted me to help him, he asked me to help him. I told him I couldn't; I had to leave for work. He asked why I had to go to work. I didn't -- I don't -- have a good answer.

During class this morning somebody mentioned something about receiving gifts from Santa Claus. At that time I suddenly realised that my wife and I had forgotten to get stocking stuffers for the kids. So tonight after I finished class I went to the store to get some gifts for the kids from Santa.

I shouldn't be going to the store, I shouldn't be doing the Christmas shopping. That's not because I think my wife should be doing all the shopping, it's because I'm terrible at shopping. I never know what to buy anybody. But somebody has to do it and it has to be done tonight. My wife doesn't have a chance to do it, so it has to be me. And so, because I had to go shopping when I finshed work, it was almost ten thirty when I got home.

I leave home for work at eight thirty in the morning. I'm home for a quick supper in the evening and then I don't get home again until almost ten thirty at night. That's fine; I can accept that. I might not like it, but I can accept it. That's my responsibility. That's my job, that's my work, and my family depends on me to make money. That's life.

But what I don't understand is why I can't be at home to be with my family at night. What I really don't like is why I can't be there with my boy to help with something. Why?

I feel so bad. I feel like I’m letting them down. I just want to be there with my children; I just want to be there to help them. I’ve gone to work all day, why can't I stay home with my family at night?

Can anybody tell me why?