Opening Salvo

You waited until forty to get married. You waited until forty to have kids. You cobble together sufficient income from a variety of disparate sources who pay you relatively well for a dodgy skill set you picked up over years of tinkering and mucking about. In your spare time, between the long lunches and afternoon tennis matches, you clean the house. You pick the tot up from daycare, spirit him home, put him to bed and then tipple a wine or two until the missus rolls in from her full-time, big money gig.

You are a chardaddy. And you dig it.