Dad's day

5:51 a.m.
Carey goes to Lincoln's room, brings him into our bed.

6:09 a.m.
Carey and Lincoln get up, head to playroom.

6:45 a.m.
Greta wakes up, joins mother and brother in playroom.

6:52 a.m.
Greta watches Ni Hao, Kai-lan in the living room while Lincoln watches Dora the Explorer in the playroom.

6:55 - 7:12 a.m.
Carey commences with secret plan. Despite the steady drizzle, she heads outside in her red floral print cotton nightgown and hot pink crocs. Fires up the grill's side burner and perfectly cooks four strips of bacon. I mean perfect -- crunchy in the middle with the ends curled up like ribbons of pork fat heaven. Bacon cooked, she fries two eggs in a separate pan. While they sizzle, she pops in two pieces of wheat toast.

7:14 a.m.
From the warm comfort of the guest bed, I smell something. Wonder why, since we don't have a kitchen. I roll out of bed, brush aside four plastic tarps on the way to the master bedroom and my drawers. Don a pair of shorts and a t-shirt just as I hear, "Shhhh.... are you ready? Lincoln, get the cup. Greta, c'mon, let's go!" I jump back into bed and pull up the covers.

7:20 a.m.
Greta, Lincoln and Carey creak up the steps and push open the guest room door -- "Surprise!" Carey spreads out a picnic blanket and presents me with the best breakfast I've had in a long time. The kids enjoy Apple Strudel bread and yogurt while I feast and think to myself, "There are millions (billions?) of men who don't have what I have."