You may want to start your doomsday prepping. My daughter had a sleepover party. With my husband in residence. And there was no weeping or yelling or under-the-breath grumbling in Russian from any side. I feel shockingly … normal. (Insert picture of “normal” SpongeBob with his square edges rounded off.)

(I think my 17 year-old may have slept part of the night on a park bench, but that’s a whole other story.)