It was Sunday morning.
My wife and daughter were away at a horse show all weekend.
I got up at about 6:00 AM and had already done two loads of laundry, paid bills, cleaned the kitchen, unloaded the dishwasher, straightened up the garage and then sat down at the computer to work on our end of the year taxes, when my 17 year old son got up at about 10:00 AM.
I was feeling like it had been a real productive morning.
He said "morning" as he walked past to the kitchen to read the sports section in the newspaper and eat a little breakfast.
About a half-hour later, when he saw me still sitting at the computer, asked when I was going to "start my day."
Truthfully, I was a little irritated.
He couldn't understand why.