Today was supposed to be PhMom's first day back at work after her maternity leave: she's doing partial days three days this week. She was planning on leaving after I got home from my headshrinking appointment.

So I take over the feeding of the boys (mac and cheese) and check to see when baby girl needs her bottle, and she leaves...

and comes back a minute later, yelling about what happens when you leave the keys in the ignition and in the on position. Yup: I killed the battery on our new minivan. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem, except that her mom took my car out of town for the holiday.

I did get a jump, later that night, and it runs fine again. And it was nice having her around all day today. It wasn't so nice to have this conversation with my three year old:

Daddy, why did you run the battery down?

It was a mistake. People make mistakes.

That's not something you should do. I don't want you to ever do that again.

Okay, I'm done with this conversation.

All in all, it didn't turn out to be as unpleasant as I feared (although, to be honest, until the realization of every major religion's apocalypse simultaneously, nothing will be as unpleasant as I fear), and I didn't spend the whole rest of the day hating myself for being stupid, and being pissed off at everyone around me for what I imagine is their seething judgment of my stupidity. So, yay for drugs, I guess. Better living through chemistry ftw.