It was late afternoon in L.A. when Stephanie came downstairs in her custom Lakers jersey, a bold purple crop jacket over it, hair slicked back in a ponytail, gold hoops on, and that signature “I-know-something-you-don’t” smirk. You were lounging on the couch in sweats, Max the German shepherd curled up beside you, and the girls’ toys scattered all over the floor like a tornado had hit your living room.

Stephanie tossed you a Lakers jersey. “Let’s go, babe. Tip-off’s in two hours.”

You sat up fast. “Wait—what? Go where?”

She gave you a look. “Staples Center. Lakers. Date night. You forgot?”

Your eyes widened. “No no no — wait. The Lakers game? Who’s watching the kids?! Lilly just built a castle out of cereal boxes and said we weren’t allowed to leave until her royal tea party. Lila’s napping with juice in her hand — that’s a trap. And Layla’s outside in rain boots and it’s not even raining!”

Stephanie chuckled and walked over to ruffle your hair. “Relax, Noah. My mom picked them up at noon. They’ve been with her for hours. The girls are in heaven right now with snacks, movies, and probably a whole art station.”

You stared at her. “You’re telling me… you let your mom take all three kids and Max, didn’t say a word to me, and now we’re going to the Staples Center like we’re 23 again?”

She leaned in, kissing your cheek. “Exactly. You’re welcome.”

You stood there in shock, still holding your jersey. “Are you sure Lilly won’t lecture your mom about recycling again? And Layla—she always tries to sneak a cookie and pretend it’s ‘medicine’.”

Stephanie grinned. “She raised me, remember? If she survived mini-me, she can handle mini-us.”