Got Ethan?

On Monday evening I put Ethan to bed. We had read our scriptures, prayed, cuddled for a few minutes, then I tucked him in bed and off to sleep he went. My alarm sounded Tuesday morning at 4 a.m. and off to work I went; little did I know what was about to take place.

Upon arriving at work I immediately began searching for an endangered missing juvenile. The young woman had runaway from The Land of the Midnight Sun and was now being trafficked for unmentionable things in The Valley of the Sun.

We started our search for the young woman, only to get just that close. I got home in time to catch four hours of sleep, then left again bright and early Wednesday morning to begin our search again. Later that night we found her, safe, and not too worse for wear! After interviews and follow up, I got home in time to grab another hour of sleep before being called back out a little after midnight to handle a bureaucratic game I like to call "Victim, Victim, Who Wants the Victim!"

Needless to say, by the time I got home on Thursday, around noon, I was relieved, yet exhausted, frustrated, and dumbfounded by the aloof laziness of the county agency tasked to assist juveniles, the bureaucratic hoops private organizations wanting to help must set on fire and jump through before they can, the ultimate dysfunction of a family when it comes to one of their own, and the wanton indolence generated by Seasonal Associative Disorder (SAD) due to the lack of sunlight on the third-shift in Alaska.
Upon arriving home, my wife, told me that Ethan had been asking about me the past two days; we had not seen each other in 65 hours... I was tired, but wanted to see him as soon as he got home. When his bus arrived, I made sure I was at the door waiting for him. 
A huge welcoming hug from Ethan was soon followed by a very fitting sing-a-long reenactment of this little number from Cats Don't Dance.

Obviously, any frustration I had brought home, quickly vanished. 
Later that night as we knelt again for family prayer Ethan asked, "Dad, why were you at work a million long times?" My wife asked, "Are you glad dad's home?" He simply responded, "YES!"

As we finished our prayers, and went to bed, I couldn't help but think of those milk commercials from the eighties, with only a slight modification:

Got Ethan? 
...he does a body good!

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