Children are really good at filling you with guilt. I should have realized this, as in my earlier days I probably could have taught a class on it (maybe something like, "Guilt Trips: Not Just for Jewish Mothers"). All it takes is one "but you never [play with me/read me stories/take me deep-sea fishing]" and instantly you feel like that terrible father in a Lifetime movie who is always neglecting his children to pursue extra-marital affairs.
Which is why I consulted my 6 year-old cousin who lives in Boston when faced with the possibility of me moving back to Chicago. After all, she was the mastermind behind the title of this blog. I asked her if I should take a job in Chicago. She shook her head yes, excited at the possibility. Not quite the response I was anticipating. "You know, that means I'll have to live in Chicago," I reminded her. No response. A confused look suggesting that she hadn't yet figured out how this would affect her. "I would not live in Boston."
Needless to say she was against the idea. In my defense, she has had the same reaction to me telling her I would not be able to play dress-up with her and eighteen of her friends. So I haven't gone back yet, but I am not sure I'll take any more direction from a six year old. Even if it is a really smart six year old that already has a more expensive education than I had.