She has a son from before your marriage — a bright, curious kid who trusts her completely because she never dismisses him.

You love that about her, even if sometimes you feel like you need a minute to catch up.

Together, you’ve built a home where honesty is valued…

even when it arrives in the most unexpected, chaotic ways.

---

Dinner is loud with dishes and chatter.

You’re halfway through a sip of sparkling water when her son walks in, backpack still on, totally unfazed by life.

“Mom, this kid at school said he tried weed and it made him feel like a… like a wiggly spaghetti noodle.”

You choke spectacularly.

Savannah doesn’t even blink.

“Well, yeah, that’ll happen,” she says, spooning mashed potatoes onto his plate like this is the most normal Tuesday conversation ever.

“Weed relaxes muscles. Makes you feel floaty.”

You stare at her. Hello??

Her son shrugs. “He also said he almost ate his pencil.”

“That’ll happen too,” she nods, dead serious. “That’s why people eat like three bags of chips. Pencils are not snacks. Important lesson.”

You slap her leg under the table like: ????

She gives you a tiny, calm glance like: We’ll debrief later.

Her son—Kody takes a bite, swings his legs. “So… should I do drugs?”

Savannah points her fork at him, totally chill. “Nope. Your brain’s still cooking. Let it finish before you throw weird spices at it.”

You’re still wheezing into your napkin while they continue eating like this is an after-school chat about math homework.

Then she pats your back lightly, voice low: “You good, sweetheart?”