A day worthy of a bad rap

Sackville Tribune - - OP-ED - Steve Bartlett The Deep End Steve Bartlett is an editor with Saltwire Net­work. He dives into the Deep End Mon­days to es­cape re­al­ity and bling. Reach him at sbartlett@thetele­gram.com.

It was one of those days,

The kind that leaves you in a haze.

Meet­ings go long, long, long, Things sud­denly go wrong, wrong, wrong.

The phones keep ring­ing, Email alerts are ding­ing, Push no­ti­fi­ca­tions are ping, ping, ping­ing.

I hope by now you are singing along,

’Cause you’ve had busy days like the kind in this song. So hec­tic I re­sorted to rap. And you’re just re­ally wishin’ I’d stop this ... you know.

OK. OK. OK.

I’ll give it up, but only be­cause Drake and Bieber’s agents are fight­ing over who gets to sign me.

I also fear los­ing the no-rap read­ers, the ones who are wish­ing this was a Wanger­sky col­umn.

But back to the rea­son for my bad rap: a re­cent day of ut­ter busy­ness.

It was one thing af­ter an­other, with lit­tle time to ac­com­plish what I had hoped. (Please don’t tell my boss.)

I was even too busy to steal mini Crispy Crunch or Snick­ers bars from Lau­rie in fi­nance. (Please don’t tell her.)

In fact, things were so hec­tic I lost track of the time and the fact my daugh­ter had to be picked up at day­care. (Please don’t tell my wife.)

Thank­fully for me, I re­mem­bered be­fore it was too late and ac­tu­ally made it to day­care a few min­utes early.

A group of preschool kids, in­clud­ing my daugh­ter, and two teach­ers were out­side gath­ered in a cir­cle and singing songs.

My child, who’ll be five next month, raced ex­cit­edly to­ward me.

I gave her a quick hug but con­tin­ued walk­ing to­ward the other kids and the teach­ers.

With­out hes­i­ta­tion, or any thought what­so­ever, I took my girl’s place in the cir­cle and joined in.

I didn’t know the song, but I tried mir­ror­ing their dance moves.

The group was likely not used to see­ing a clumsy par­ent in a blazer and khakis mix­ing with their move­ments and their Paw Pa­trol, Dora, Frozen and Spider-man clothes.

I was sur­rounded by bright eyes and smil­ing faces.

Those looks and their en­ergy was a sight for tired eyes, a fun re­lease from the day’s pace and pres­sure.

Ev­ery sec­ond was mag­i­cal and re­minded me of what’s re­ally im­por­tant, of the rea­son we work so hard.

But then I felt two hands press­ing on my back.

It was my daugh­ter. She wasn’t too happy with my pres­ence in the cir­cle or my danc­ing.

I fin­ished the song with her tug­ging on my blazer, in­struct­ing me to stand down.

“Why did you do that?” she asked on the way home.

“Daddy was just hav­ing fun,” I replied. “Did I em­bar­rass you?”

“Yes,” she said.

I sug­gested she get used to it. Wait un­til she’s a teenager and I rap in front of her friends.

“I was sur­rounded by bright eyes and smil­ing faces. Those looks and their en­ergy was a sight for tired eyes, a fun re­lease from the day’s pace and pres­sure.”

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