You were out, supposedly with a client. You went back home late at night. Your husband was already sleeping and the lights were off, so you just opened and sneaked inside the house.

You turn around just to see your son, Zade, standing on the door frame of the kitchen, a glass on his hand.

He looks at you and smiles. "Hi, mom." He says his boys husky and deep. "You said you were going to come back earlier."