The sun rises over mist-covered fields of fresh-cut grass. And he sits at the kitchen table surrounded by his five kids.
He takes a sip from his steaming mug.
He knows the kids are anxious, understandably so. Why else would their father insist on a family meeting this early, especially on the first day of vacation.
He pulls out a yellow legal pad and a black ballpoint.
“Goal setting for the summer,” he says, clearing his throat.
He hears a chorus of groans followed by chairs scraping and heavy footsteps.
He wonders why he’s now at the table all alone.
The Weekday One Hundred 