I’m in dire need of my own box of altoids. My entire body is dragging from hours of alternating between crying and inadequate sleep. I make a quick pot of coffee and sit down at the bar and drink it in silence, as I dread the day that lies ahead of me. Kel eventually comes in, wearing his pajamas and darth vader house shoes. “Morning,” he says groggily as he grabs a cup out of the sink strainer. He walks over to the coffee pot and proceeds to pour coffee into the World's Greatest Dad cup. “What do you think you’re doing?” I ask him. “Hey, you aren’t the only one who had a bad night.” Kel climbs onto a stool on the opposite side of the bar. “Fourth grade is rough. I had two hours of homework,” he says as he brings the cup to his mouth. I take the coffee out of his hands and pour the contents into my own, then toss the mug into the trashcan. I walk to the refrigerator, grab a juice and place it in front of him. Kel rolls his eyes and pokes through the hole at the top of the pouch, bringing it to his mouth.
