It’s 5:15 pm on a weekday and my husband has just finished his day of work (from the little corner in our bedroom that he’s claimed as his permanent office). I’m juggling the tasks of prepping dinner while keeping an eye on our older two kids playing in the backyard, as I simultaneously bounce my toddler son on my hip.
Mike enters the kitchen, gives me a gentle hug, and I proceed to ask him the same question that typically ensues.