Not long ago, my wife escaped the confines of our house to enjoy what is known as a “girl’s weekend.” If you have not heard of such a thing, I am not surprised. Finding a “girl’s weekend” in its natural habitat is as rare as bumping into a cucumber sandwich at a monster truck rally.
While Gabby enjoyed what I imagined to be endless Sex and the City reruns interrupted by the occasional pillow fight, I was left at home to care for the kids. The prospect was both exciting and scary. I love having one-on-one time to shape their character in ways only a dad can, but knowing I would have to keep track of homework and execute a legitimate pony tail gave me indigestion.
As soon as we woke up the next morning, Jake and Audrey excitedly asked,
“What are we doing today, Daddy?”
“Well, I need to…
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