This mother's assessment of her youngest son's emotional and mental states last week must have been terribly wrong, or he's a better actor than I realized. He's disappeared. He's not answering calls from Karen or me. He doesn't have clothes with him or his school gear. I can't believe he left that precious Pip, no matter what other problems he's having. I figured he was to the point of doing whatever he had to do to stay close to his son, and maybe he will, it's not too late. I pray he's OK and can work out whatever is wrong.

10:22 am. Benji just called. He's OK, spent the night on an air mattress in his office, cooling off after a spat with his significant other. I feel confident they can work it out, there's too much at stake not to. Ah, the challenges of being married to another imperfect human! God bless 'em.

I'm glad I had plenty of housework to do today to keep myself occupied. It's all we can do to hold things together here, but so far we have. Marital spats always remind me of some of Ed Bacon's pre-marital counseling: "Couples who don't fight, don't f***." How dull would that be?