I try to leave work at 3:00 p.m. in order to arrive home at 4:00, ready to cook or shop or take Mom or Dad to a doctor appointment or do yardwork, knowing that I will go up to my home office and work remotely at night to catch up on work. Sometimes I do not get home until 5:00. Often, when I come through the door, I find Mom and Dad just starting to enjoy their “lunch” while watching NCIS. Dad has his onion with ham and Swiss sandwich. Mom enjoys leftovers with a Yoo-Hoo. Sometimes they bring home Burger King combo meals—Whoppers, French fries, and Diet Cokes. By the time they finish their lunch, I am ready for my dinner, having lunched at noon. Some days, I will find a snack and head upstairs to work or blog until it is time to cook and eat dinner, between 8:00 and 9:00. Other days, I just make a dinner for myself, often steamed vegetables and hard-boiled eggs, either swimming in olive oil and vinegar or mixed with melted butter and salt, or maybe a giant salad tossed with balsamic vinegar and olive oil. Some days I cook. Other days Dad cooks. Sometimes we heat up a can of Campbell’s soup and call it good. Having cooked for the family for 45 years, Mom is done with cooking. I don’t blame her. Now, Dad and I enjoy cooking for her.