I don’t usually like to talk about my commute. It exhausts me just thinking about it and most people I know don’t believe me when I tell them anyway. But I feel like sharing my family’s misery so here it goes in boring detail:

5:00am – Alarm goes off in Queens (two seconds later I slap the snooze button)

5:09am – Alarm goes off again, my wife and I get out of bed. She heads to the shower, I iron. We don’t talk to each other or look at each other until later on in the morning.

6:00am – Devin gets up to join the party. He turns on “Barney” which makes the morning officially suck.

6:45am – We leave the house. All of us are tired and cranky and we act like it.

7:45am – I drop the wife off at a train station in Brooklyn. We smooch. It tastes like at least one of us forgot to brush. (Kidding… or am I?)

8:05am – Devin and I arrive at the front of the preschool, there are no parking spaces on the block. We drive around. Devin insists we are riding the Polar Express.

8:20am – I find a space. “Are we finished Daddy?” he asks.

8:26am – I go through the drop-off routine with the boy (and I tell you it’s a routine: peeing, hugging, kissing, convincing him that his day will be fine).

8:45am – I arrive at the subway station after a three block walk.

9:30am – Get off the subway in Manhattan, start looking for coffee. Extra large please.

(***Mad, annoyed, tired, stressed, for the next several hours at work. I love non-profit!***)

6:25pm – Meet son, wife, and mother (she works there) at the preschool.

6:35pm – We all pile into the little blue Hyundai.

7:00pm – Drop off mother, duck the neighbors and extended famil