At my wife’s birthday party, my son suddenly pointed at her boss and shouted, “Daddy, that’s the man with the caterpillars.”

“Sweetheart, he’s five. He mixes everything up. Please don’t do this here.”

“I’m not doing anything yet.”

Marcus was already reaching for his jacket on the back of the chair.

“You know, I should probably head out. Early meeting tomorrow. Amber, thanks for the lovely evening.”

“Sit down, Marcus.”

My voice came out lower than I expected.

“Please don’t do this continue reading …