Relief flooded through me when she finally snapped, “Fine. I’ll figure something else out.”
But on Friday morning at 5:20 a.m., my doorbell rang.
Same boys. Same pajamas. But this time, Daphna didn’t even get out of the car.
“Romantic getaway weekend with Matt! Leaving straight from work. The boys can stay until tonight. You’re the best!”
And she was already gone.
I wasn’t angry anymore. Anger required energy, and I had none left.
I was just done.
“Come on, boys,” I said softly. “Let’s get you some breakfast.”
But while they ate their cereal and cookies, I did something different.
I opened Excel on my laptop and started typing.
