“Hey Dad?”

“Ughnnng,” I grunted, barely listening. I rustled the pages of draft I was working on. I can’t believe Mr. Nedar want’s this thing in by friday. I’ve barely had a month to work on it. My eyes started to droop with tiredness. One more all-nighter and I’d be certified comatose.

“Daad??”

My thoughts were interrupted by a very persistent tugging on my sleeve.

“Dad?? DAD ??”

“What? Whaddya want?” I was slipping in and out of a daze. I wonder if I can get Martha to make me more Coffee before I go to bed…

“Daddy? Can I have a bed time story?”

Some of the papers slid off the table as my head dropped onto my arm. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get you the manuscript by the end of the week”