I woke up the next morning with a start. I popped up into a sitting position, full of panic. What had I done? I looked around the room. It was empty except for myself

and the bedroom door was shut. There was absolutely no evidence of last night's tryst with the babysitter. Maybe it was a dream? As I yanked on a t-shirt and sweatpants, I knew in my mind that I had done something very, very wrong last night.

I walked down the steps and into the kitchen and stopped dead in the doorway. Rachel and the two kids were singing a song about a bus and eating fruit...