This comic came up as I was thinking of ideas for new comic strips. It happened verbatim to how you see it here. Dad works during the day when the kid is down for a nap. Work goes great, shit gets done, to the point where it’s been a LONG time without a peep on the baby monitor. Then it creeps. That nagging doubt. Is he okay? Is he still breathing? Did he somehow climb out of his crib, construct a makeshift ladder against the wall, jimmy open two sets of window locks, remove the screen and tumble out the window, only to hitchhike on the road down the hill?
I know some of it is a little far-fetched. Of course he’s still breathing. But I decide to give it that silent, delicate, ninja-like checkup. You know: twisting the doorknob at the rate of one full turn per hour, like some kind of catburglarizing safe-cracker. That tiny, almost imperceptible “click” that apparently goes off like a gunshot on the other side of the door. Then it’s all downhill, and you feel like an ass. Couldn’t leave well enough alone. Still worth it to know he’s okay, but dammit if that couldn’t have been another half hour of work getting done.