The clinic where Tricia works is open every day of the year, which would stink if she were the only doctor, but they’ve got lots of them, so she only works weekends and holidays every so often. That said, when she does work weekends it’s tough on me. During the week, I have Children’s Day Out to help me through, but on Saturday and Sunday I’m alone. Alone and afraid.

Usually when Tricia has a work weekend on the horizon, I call my mom and say something like, “Linus was just saying how much he missed his Mimi and Paw Paw.” This is usually all it takes to convince my parents to visit for the weekend. But occasionally my folks already have something planned, like the past weekend, and then all I can do is pray.

Things started bad enough. On Friday morning, the boys and I went outside to fly the drone my parents gave me for Christmas. The sun was bright, and the wind was blowing, and the drone went higher than I meant for it to go. Then I lost it in the sun, and by the time my eyes adjusted, it was 40 feet off the ground in my neighbor’s tree. Linus cried.

The rest of the day went by without incident, but around one in the morning Baby O began screaming. As I’ve told you before, he’s the perfect baby, so we knew something was wrong if he was that upset. Tricia got up to sit with him, and when I came in the room a few minutes later, he was making the most unholy noise I’d ever heard.

Apart from occasionally gross dinner conversation, I can’t think of many drawbacks to being married to a doctor. I know it came in particularly handy this night when Tricia said, “It’s Croup.”

Had I been alone with Oliver, I would have likely taken him to our veterinarian because it sounded like he was turning into a dog. But Tricia was calm, and after sitting with Oliver in a steamy bathroom, he calmed down too. One of Tricia’s partners prescribed a steroid for him the next day, and by Saturday night, he was back to his old perfect self.

Linus, however, refused to eat anything on Saturday, and was particularly whiney, even for a 2-year-old. The reason why became quite obvious at dinner, when he walked into the dining room, gave me the most peculiar look, then proceeded to vomit the previous week’s food in the most spectacular fashion. Tricia was home by this point, so she quickly volunteered to give Linus a bath, leaving me to clean up the vomit. It’s funny, for someone who has been through gross anatomy lab, Tricia has a suspiciously weak stomach when it comes to gross bodily fluids in our own home. Just saying.

We made it through Sunday, barely, and the next morning I was perhaps the only person in American saying, “Thank God for Monday.” Then I asked Tricia when she was scheduled to work another weekend.

“In a few weeks,” she said, “why?”

“Oh no reason,” I said, then called my mom to tell her how much the boys missed her.

Chad Gibbs resides in Auburn and is the author of “God & Football,” “Love Thy Rival” and “Jesus Without Borders.” To learn more about Gibbs’ projects and to purchase his books, visit chadgibbs.com.

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