The other night, I was cleaning up dinner, my two children at my feet, when the fire alarms throughout our house began blasting. Of course, the baby started crying. Of course, my 4-year-old joined in, happily screaming in dissonant harmony. I swung around checking the oven and the stove, but the cooking was long over and nothing had been left on.
Dadless Dinners: How We Simplify Meals When Dad’s Away
There aren’t many things I can say I look forward to when my husband leaves. But there are a few itty-bitty pleasures I secretly enjoy — such as sleeping in the middle …
