While both of our kids were still sitting in the back seat, my wife casually said, “Don’t wait up for me tonight. I need to take care of a ‘grown-up baby’ who still needs mommy’s milk.”
While both of our kids were still sitting in the back seat, my wife casually said, “Don’t wait up for me tonight. I need to take care of a ‘grown-up baby’ who still needs mommy’s milk.” I slowly turned toward her. “Aren’t you ashamed to say something like that in front of our children?” She laughed. “Oh, come on. If my husband doesn’t need my milk anymore, I might as well give it to someone else.” Before I could even respond, my son quietly spoke from the back seat. “Dad… we’ve already met the man Mom is talking about.” For a few seconds, the only sound inside our SUV was the low hum of the tires against the pavement. I honestly thought I had misheard him. My wife didn’t. Her smile vanished almost instantly. I looked at our ten-year-old son, Mason, through the rearview mirror. “What do you mean, we’ve met him?” Mason glanced at his mother before answering me. That tiny hesitation bothered me more than the answer itself. My wife twisted around in the passenger seat. “Honey, Dad mi...