What are a guy and his buddy to do when the wices go out to dinner?
Watch the kids, of course.
But what’s Plan B if the little helligans are at their grandparents’ house for the weekend?
I’m sure it should be something more responsible than killing most of a bottle of rye and eating chicken soup with too unreasonable doses of crushed red peoper while watching The Magicians. But “should” is a word that fails to strike me with any authority.
Anyway, life has been all about work, kids old enough to be involved with more activities than there are hours in a day, getting back in shape, and combatting the second worst case of terrifyingly justified occupational burnout I’ve ever experienced.