Oh, Me.

On Friday I went to the gym and dropped my boys off at the childcare center. There was little boy there, younger than Matthew but bigger (because my little guy is...little), that started following him around. He followed him while I signed in and got Truman set up with a toy. Matthew started saying things like "don't" and "stop following me" and the like.

Now, Matthew was going to be fine. But I stuck my leg between him and the little boy and said "no. Don't follow him."

Can you guess what happened next? That little boy started crying. Like, huge tears. Accompanied by boogers, just FYI.

And the lady at the childcare place! She said, "he was just trying to make friends."

Just writing it is making me feel bad about myself. I tried really hard to get into that little boy's good graces, but he was having none of it. I walked out feeling bad.

I worked out feeling bad.

I picked up Matthew feeling bad (and worried that the little boy's mom was going to jump me in the parking lot).

I told my friend Christine about it this morning and felt bad when I saw her face.

Tyler got the mail and brought home BYU magazine, which I almost never read. But there was an article title that caught my attention.

Pardon my flash.
I read the first few lines and stopped.

That's as far as I've gotten this morning because I have to go to the gym. I still feel bad, but I feel a liiiiiittle bit better because BYU told me we all fail, more than once, every day.

I believe that, too. But holy moly, is it nice to see in print.