Day Two

After making a big breakfast (I'd made a late night stack of pancakes for Casey at her request, and she'd insisted that I make them for her again the following morning), I headed off to work, exhausted from the previous night.

After our pancakes, Casey had decided that she didn't want to go to bed, and had thrown her first fit - which consisted of her running from room to room, wailing and crying, and refusing to talk to anyone who approached her. She parked herself in front of our bedroom door until almost 3 am, while Charming and her grandparents tried to appease her and made extensions to her bed time (each subsequent time wasn't enough for her, and when her time was up, the fit resumed).

After a long day at the office, I headed home, ready to have a glass of wine and unwind by the pool, a post-stressful day ritual. As I walked into the house, I was greeted by the smell of dinner, which Charming was making with Casey and his father while his mother sipped my last glass of Chardonnay. When Casey saw me, she glared at me angrily, placed herself territorially between her father and I, and said, "What are you doing home already?"

I was stung. I had tried so hard the night before to make a good impression, and I thought things had gone so well. No one else noticed - or at least acknowledged that they'd noticed - her comment, and Charming said hello from the stove. Casey continued to glare at me angrily for some time.

I'd never felt so out of place in my own home. It was as if they lived there, and I was intruding on their space. Defeated, I retreated to the solice of my bedroom to change, which I did slowly, stalling on heading back downstairs. So much for my glass of wine and relaxing evening.