Last night I went out with some friends from work and left Daddy and Alexis to fend for themselves. Alone. Together. Alexis and Daddy. The truly earth-shattering result of the evening was that nothing happened. Seriously--nothing. I didn't get 37 phone calls, the police weren't on the front lawn, there were no holes in the walls, it didn't look like the fridge threw up all over the house, and everyone was still alive. Amazing.

Any other time that I have left those two alone together, the result has been less than spectacular. The very first time was when Alexis was probably two months old. I had the audacity to decide that four months was long enough and I needed to get a haircut. While I was at it, I thought I would throw in some highlights. I only ventured about two miles from our house but yet I didn't even make it out of the car before the first call. The gist of it was something along the lines of, "Come back now." There was much screaming and crying and Alexis wasn't very happy either. I decided it was time for the home team to man up and went through with the two hours of vanity. I stopped counting the calls at five and stopped answering them after ten. When I got home, I vaguely remember hearing a whole lot of complaining and many threats of "You're never leaving us alone again."

Daddy, you've come a long way since that fateful day. Well done, well done.