I'm working here on a Sunday morning and expect to work tonight, too. (This afternoon, Dave and I go see Terry Gross with Carolina Karen and Mensa Boy, so I do get a little break)
But I don't like that I don't get to spend time with my son on the weekend.
Therefore, it's about more than I can handle when I see a big blue ball go rolling by my office's French doors, with a toddler running at full speed right behind it despite his unsteady toddler gait, and a white collie trotting behind them both sniffing the ground for interesting smells, and my ginormously tall husband walking behind everybody with a hot cup of coffee.
It just abouty breaks my heart.