It's 3:30

It's 3:30.  I'm a kid on Christmas morning. 
Soccer-mom mall-walk as quick as I possibly can, avoiding chatty students and other teachers like land mines. 
them: "Hey, Mrs. Pitts!  How's it going?"
me: "Can't talk.  Leaving!"
Step outside for the first time all day since about 8:15 a.m.  Don't really notice the weather, just how far away my damn car is. Hurry up!  Now walking even more briskly.  Finally at the car.  Throw my purse and pumping bag in the passenger seat.  Start the car, pull out of spot.  Ignore other person trying to exit parking lot and get in front of them.  Out of the lot and on the road before buckling my seatbelt. 
35 mph speed limit?  I can probably go 40 and be fine.  Or 45.  Stupid stop sign!! Turn right on Forum.  Stop light.
Past Walgreen's.  Stupid old people turning in to get their Geritol and prescriptions!  Go!!! At four-way stop now.  Almost there!  Turn left.  Left again into parking lot.  Park.  Leave keys in ignition.  Power walk into daycare. 

Open door.

Deep breath. 

There he is.  Totally unaware of the journey I've just taken to get to him even 30 seconds sooner. Adorable.
I pick him up. 

Sigh. 

He smells like Miles - millk and boy and outside. 

I love this.  I live for this moment. 

Smile.