I Was Twice Your Age When I Figured That Out

Tucking Fiona into bed tonight, I ran through the highlights of her day:

"You had a good day," I said. "You went to the park with Mommy and got to play at the playground, and help Mommy pick out stuff at the green market, and you rode the subway, and you played a lot. That's a good day."

"Did you have a good day or a bad day, Daddy?" Fiona asked.

"I had a good day, too," I replied.

"But you had to work today!" she protested. "You had a bad day."

Touché.