No Tears for Daddy

Trying to get the boys to the car for school, Evan stopped at the door to kiss Laura goodbye. He turned toward the car and hesitated. (NO, not that look! DON'T turn back around!) But he did - he got that look - the one that says, "I don't want to leave Mommy today." The one that means a struggle is coming. The look that betrays a deep longing in the heart of a child to just go back inside and snuggle with his mother for the rest of the morning. (Aww MAN! Not today!) I ran to the door to scoop up the deserter as he ran inside the house and grabbed Laura's leg. "I wanna stay with YOU, Mommy!" (kiss, hug, prying, crying, fighting to strap him into his seat as he showers me with warm tears and snot)...
Why does traffic back up more on the days you're running a few minutes late with a child in the backseat whining, "I want Mommy" for 20 minutes straight? Funny, though, as soon as we pulled onto the school drive, the crying stopped, the backpacks went on, hugs and kisses for me and then, "bye, Dad" from each as they jumped right out and headed to class without a hitch. Amazing. Thank you, God! (Wait a minute! No tears for ME?!)