"Jason," Piper insisted. "Have a little fun. I'll put Nico to bed early and have a nice quiet night to relax. Maybe I'll finally catch up on Supernatural."

"But-" I protested. My wife cut me off.

"No 'but's! Go have fun with the boys! Just don't do anything I wouldn't do."

With that, Piper gave me a lingering kiss as a diversion so she could shove me out the door without resistance. Outside, Leo and Percy were already in Frank's Jeep. Some rock band I'd never heard of blared from the speakers. Even though we were going to a bar, Percy and Leo already had empty beer cans on the seats next to them. It seemed that Frank would once again be the designated driver.

"You actually made it!" screamed Leo over the music. "Dude, you and Aquaman here haven't agreed to go anywhere since we celebrated Frankie's twenty-first! What happened?"

"Kids!" Percy and I responded simultaneously. Neither of us had agreed to go out for one of Leo's wild nights out since Nico, Selena, and Charlie had been born. Leo and Calypso, though, had only just started trying for kids, so the "Firey Menace," as he liked to be called, had yet to understand the adult responsibilities brought on by parenthood.

When we arrived at the bar, Leo forced everyone but Frank, who had to remain sober to drive them all home, to take three shots to start off. I don't remember much after that.

The next morning, I was in my own bed, thank the lord. I still reeked of alcohol, and I couldn't remember if I'd done anything to regret or not. Piper wasn't anywhere to be found, which was a very bad sign. I felt my body seize with terror. What had I done? Reluctantly, head pounding from my hangover, I got out of bed to face whatever wrath I'd earned.

That was when things got really weird.

An outfit was laid out on the bed for me to change into, and downstairs there were chocolate-chip pancakes, which I was embarrassed to admit that I still ate, and freshly squeezed orange juice with a note:

Jason,

Glad you had fun last night. :)

~Piper XOXO

"What the-"

I stopped mid sentence when I saw little Nico peep his blonde head over the table. I resisted the urge to straighten his glasses for him, wanting answers more than hygiene.

"Hey, pal," I said. "What's with the fancy spread? Did something happen last night?"

"I dunno," he chirped. "When you came home from your playdate you smelled bad and talked funny. Mommy was trying to help you upstairs, but you kept shouting that you were a married man and stuff. Daddy, you're silly!"

I glanced at my breakfast, then back at my son.

"I sure am, buddy. I sure am."