Earthquake preparedness and bloody child handprints

I know I shouldn't really complain about my job right now, seeing as the tax payer is paying me to sit around for long periods doing nothing.  Paying me really well, actually.
We had a dress inspection (gotta make sure we're all tickety-boo for when nothing happens),we had a practice earthquake session, and then our allotted time at the gym.
This REALLYcut into my writing time!  I mean, really? Don't these people know I write fiction that doesn't get read by anyone?  Lets have some priorities people!

But in the midst of all these shenanigans I got a scary call.  My wife called in a panic.  Seemed our youngest was trying to open the oven drawer and sliced his hand on a piece of loose metal.  So I drove home as safely and quickly as I could. 
He was fine, the cut shallow.  I sewed a sock to a onesy to prevent him from pulling the band-aids off, calmed my wife down (she felt as though it were her fault, silly love), and tried to take the rest of the day easy.

Then I hit a kind of selfish low moment.  I looked at how many hits my website had (8, day before 100), see if I had gained any more followers on twitter, and how many sales I had.   They were all low or non-existent.
Then I slapped myself.  I have an amazing family.  If all my personal endeavors or hobbies take a hit, then that's what it costs.  My families health, well being, and love are worth more than all the "twatters" and book sales.
Maybe I'll make it as a writer.  Maybe I won't.  I will be a successful husband and father.  That's what's important.