Book Club Widow

I’m not sure that the phrase “When the cat’s away the mice will play” is quite right to apply to this topic, but it’s the only one I can think of to describe the landscape at our house the first Wednesday of each month. That’s the evening when our children run amok, dress as wild animals, chase chickens, frolic in mud puddles, bathe in the pool, eat nutritionally precarious meals, and generally behave as if they’ve been raised by wolves. Why? Because on the first Wednesday of every month their mother briefly abandons the family in favor of a cerebral combination of wine, women, and words, and I become, temporarily at least, a Book Club Widow.

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