The Deep End

A day worthy of a bad rap

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 towards me.

I gave her a quick hug but continued walking towards 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.”