11:53 a.m., Sunday, September 17

Walking out our back door with Madison and Ava, headed to the store for some last-minute items in anticipation of hosting friends later today.

I grab the car keys and the iPod and call out to Gwen, who is rushing around the house cleaning, dusting, rearranging furniture:

"Honey, we're leaving. I'm not bringing my house keys."

Madison's straight-faced response, delivered within a half second of me finishing the sentence:

"Oh, Dad, that's bad. That means she gets to decide whether or not to let us back in."