Good Husband, Good Father

I lay back in my recliner with my book and my second glass of wine, all very placid in the afternoon. After a few minutes I heard right at the edge of perception, the sound of someone laughing hysterically or crying uncontrollably. It could have been either Tracy or Kyle. A Good Husband or Father, I told myself, would go check that out on the chance that whoever it is is crying. I did not move, reasoning rather conveniently that it was overwhelmingly likely to be laughter, which I would be unable to escape being told about later. A Really Good Husband or Father, my conscience chided, not only would not take the chance, but would rise up and go to his family even if he knew it was laughter, to share in that experience. I used to be that guy. But the recliner was very comfortable, merlot is soporific, and the book boring. It was a lovely nap.