It’s been almost eleven years. Eleven years since my wife, Lauren, and I have had freedom.  Freedom from having to revolve our days around our kids.  What did we do with ourselves back then?  Did we just party all day?  Who could even remember back that far?  It was four houses ago. We were living in Brooklyn during Lauren’s residency and I don’t have a clue what our free time was like.  I know at one point we got up at 5:30 every morning for 90 straight days and did P90x workouts which were all the rage back then. These days when I wake up at 5:30, it’s to pee for the third time since going to bed.

Bicycle store – Present Day

Store employee: I can check in the back for a Double XL, but we usually don’t carry them.

Me: But I’m usually a Large. Are the bike jerseys cut that small?

Store employee: Large in the cycling community is not the same as Large in the rest of the world.

I head back into the dressing room and try to take the XL jersey off, but it is literally stuck to my skin. It’s like I put on my seven-year-old son Max’s clothes. After a long battle I am able to get it off.  I exit the dressing room.

Store employee: I’m sorry, sir. We don’t have double XL. There is a Big and Tall store just around the corner that might have some jerseys.

Me: I don’t need a Big and Tall store.

I call my wife and tell her I can’t use the gift card her mother got me for my birthday to this store, that nothing fits me – bike shorts, shirts. This gets her hysterical.

Me: I hate you. I’m going to eat more now you know. This only makes me want to be fatter.

Mountain Creek Ski Mountain – Ski lift line

We wait on line. With me are my wife, Lauren, and our two children, Liz (8) and Matt (6). In front of us, are two teenage boys who have their masks pulled down below their chin and (I couldn’t make this up if I tried) they are trying to blow the cold air that is coming out of their mouths onto each other for fun.

“Daddy, why are their masks pulled down?”

As Matt has no ability to alter the volume of his voice so that others won’t hear him, the two kids look back at us.

“Well, you see the top of their heads,” I ask Matt loudly so they can hear me.

“Yes.”

“What aren’t they wearing on their heads?”

“Helmets.”

“Very good. When you don’t wear a helmet, you sometimes hit your head and it makes your brain stop working.”

I look up at the teenagers who quickly raise their masks over their noses.