Promise Me This (Wilder Family #3)

The stunning ability of a writer to distract themselves with complete and utter bullshit was one of the most fascinating aspects of my job.

For instance, I didn’t really like to cook. I could follow a recipe like a champ and rarely burned things, but the sheer mess involved in creating a big meal never felt like a worthwhile trade-off. Instead, I preferred to support the local economy by ordering takeout and buying foods that required little more than being reheated.

Back in New York, it was very common for Sage and me to have cereal for dinner because if it’s good enough for breakfast, why wasn’t it good enough for dinner?

All of this prior history was probably why my daughter was stunned to come home from school to find me in the kitchen, making a very elaborate dinner. She stood rooted in the middle of the kitchen, her backpack slowly sliding off onto the floor.