Infidelity was staring me in the face one Sunday evening in October after our kids were asleep. My husband confessed his affair as he sobbed, tried to comfort me, gave half-ass excuses, and tried to make it all okay any way he knew how. And believe it or not, I didn’t want to rage on the woman he was fucking. I didn’t scream and demand answers. I didn’t crawl in bed and stay there.
The idea that boys and girls shouldn’t be allowed to participate in co-ed sleepovers makes me wonder about the belief systems of the person distributing such restrictions.
