He was a hard-working man, which isn’t the worst, except that he worked so hard and so long and his love for it all was so very satisfying that his wife and children stopped expecting him to join them around the dinner table, never mind the Little League games and the school plays and evening bike rides.
The hardest part was when he came home not only late, but bringing his work with him. The first time this happened his youngest son looked at the briefcase and asked his father about it.
‘That’s because I can’t get all my work finished at the office,’ said the dad, with some noticeable self-importance.
And the boy said, ‘Can’t they put you in a slower group?’