You see, the problem is that when you leave me alone with my 7-year-old son Ben, you are really just leaving me alone with a carbon copy of myself.

No check on the squirrelly tendencies.  No safe guard against the silliness.  No drop of common sense between us.

Two versions of the same person flying without a net.

“Ben, what would you like to do now?” Dairy Queen?  Well, yes.  I happened to be thinking the same thing.  Imagine that.

My diet never really stood a chance.

Me with me.  Scary how that can be.