Missing my flight would have been worth it.

Yesterday I had a speech in Tampa, which I went to from Orlando.

I then returned to Orlando for parent teacher conferences.

It was great to hear my kids are doing well!!

And yes, I told my kids that.

Then, with a flight at 9pm to Dallas, for a speech in Thursday, I went to get dinner with the family.

I hadn’t seen my kids all day.

And I was leaving for a few days.

So we all met up at a restaurant.

Where I was able to give my kids time and attention — which is what all kids need.

All humans need it. Kids double so.

We only had 40ish minutes together.

Even then I left the restaurant pretty late.

All my spare time that I had meant to have to get to the airport and to the plane, gone.

Instead I was rushing to beat the clock.

Trying to figure out anything I could do to shave off a minute or two.

I do have Clear, which speeds the process through security.

Running, running, running!!

TSA flagged one of my bags, I asked him to do it as quickly as possible (while acknowledging he has to satisfy his requirements; not asking to skip security).

Every moment was almost panic inducing.

A lady in line at security knew my predicament, walked right past me as my bag was checked again.

Remarkably he finished in record time, I grabbed my bag and bolted for the tram — where this lady was.

We both had a laugh as I jumped inside right as the doors closed.

We got to the gates area and I bolted again for my gate.

I arrived, out of breath, with minutes to spare.

TSA was there, for some reason.

ID please?

ID? I’ll give you my ID —but — I just want to make sure I make my flight?!

Sir the flight isn’t going anywhere.

They checked my ID, I boarded the plane, and whew!!!

Got to breath my sigh of relief.

In the back of my mind though, I realized: if I missed my flight, it would have been worth it.

To give your kids the time of day?

To help them feel inside how truly special they are?

To be fully present in the moments you have with them?

All worth it.

I was schmoozing with the shuttle driver as I frantically changed my shirt and rearranged my bags on the way to the airport from the parking lot.

Apologizing for bringing my lateness into his day.

And that’s all he pointed out.

You’re being a good dad. That’s what’s important.

And that is what’s important.

Being a good ________.

Whatever that means for you?

Just be the best you can be.

For me it means, among other things, being a good dad.

So go be the best you can be.