The Sober Husband took a new job, at a new company. The job is a huge promotion, a much loftier and important job than he's held before, with huge new challenges and responsibilities. However, to us, he's like a kindergartener.
This grew out of a joke I made, when I regretted not being there to send him off on his first day (I was at Burning Man). "That's silly, you don't need to be here," said the Sober Husband.
"But it's like your first day going off to school," I said. "I should take a picture of you."
While I was just being silly, the parallels began to mount. The Sober Husband now takes a bus to work, like a school child. After the children started school, he tried a different bus route so that he could spend more time with us in the morning, but the new route didn't suit him so well. "I had people I talked to in the morning on the other bus," he said fretfully. He changed back to his old routine.
I explained this to the children. "Daddy has bus friends, and he didn't make new friends on the other bus, so he wants to ride the old bus with his old friends. He's like a kindergartener."
Also, the kids at the new school dress differently than the ones at the last place. I ordered the Sober Husband a new sort of shirt so he would feel that he fit in better.
And, as the icing on the cake, at work, when the Sober Husband needs to clear his head, he goes into a special nap room. The children seized upon this. "He really is a kindergartener. He naps!"
The poor man is beset with stress and responsibility, but to us, he is a tall kindergartener.