The Verdict

Jake suffers from what I call "workplace" syndrome. As an adult, you may have a really bad day at work, but most of us, MOST of us, grin and bear it or groan and bear it, and as the ubiquitous saying goes, we keep calm and carry on.

However, the minute we pull into the garage and drop our laptop bag on the kitchen counter we let our partner have it - you left your socks on the floor, you didn't take the garbage out, dinner's not ready, dinner's been ready, you forgot the dry cleaning. In other words, a day's worth of pent-up frustration, embarrassment, tedium and restraint are unloaded on the people who love you the most and deserve it the least.

Jake suffers from the juvenile form of workplace syndrome. And, bless my little pointed head, I had really forgotten this over the summer. But it took one day of school to remind me. Because seconds after I picked him up from his first day of kindergarten, he let me have it.

"You didn't come inside to get me!" (Actually, I did.)

"I'm starving and you wouldn't let me have lunch!" (It was noon and we were headed home for lunch.)

"I don't have ANY homework in my backpack!" (This is a problem? And it's my fault?)

And then I had the gall to take him to McDonald's and go through the drive-thru. Needless to say I haven't heard much about Jake's day. I'll treat him like a disgruntled spouse - I'll let him have his space and hopefully by bedtime he'll be ready to talk.

Then he'll get up tomorrow, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed ... and we'll do it all over again.