Their mom came back from travels in Germany and India. My grand plan was for her to live in Woodstock or some other nearby hippie town and come in on the weekends so the kids could see her regularly (and so I could stay out past one on weekends instead of rushing back Cinderella-tyle to relieve the sitter.) Instead, their mom said a week in Manhattan was enough and left today to stay with her mom and plot her next move. She hot combed Ava's hair though, and taught her how to cook macaroni & cheese two nights ago and pasta marinara tonight. It was as if she was trying to transmit to her daughter in three days a lifetime of motherly advice. Ava was so so thrilled. "Look at me daddy, I'm cooking!" She was desperate for me to try her food. Chetty ate it all up but when I asked if it was good he held out his little hand and tilted it up and down. It was as if my little girl knew that she'd be the minimommy in the house. She cooked, then put away the dishes and even wanted to mop the floor. Since she could walk she's been the reincarnation of June Cleaver but now, now that it really will be just the three of us, the little thing is pouring her heart into it. I don't think I've ever felt so sorry for us.