The empty void that was once occupied by my mom shoving fruit in front of me every half hour, or by my dad asking me about my future every half hour but on the 15's and 45's so as to give the impression of a never-ending barrage of parental influence in my life, has now been replaced by a deafening silence.

I have attempted to fill the void with fantasy sports drafts, and I am a draft-aholic. However, this is eerily ominous of my future parenting skills, in that while I enjoy putting a team together, the thrill ends there, and for the rest of the year, I only care about the two or three teams that rise above the rest. Favoritism and negligence are two qualities that should never go hand in hand.

Feel free to dial half-way to child services in anticipation. I won't hold it against you.

I managed to remember to take out the recycling this morning, and upon my return home tonight, the boxes that were placed on the edge of my lawn closest to the street had been strangely moved to right outside my garage.

Almost as if I had a guardian angel...

...that did my chores for me.

Maybe tomorrow I'll come home and the lawn will be mowed, or the toilets will be scrubbed, or there will be candy on my pillow.

Either way, there are still dishes to be washed, laundry loads to be done, and television to be watched. Apologies to Matt Damon, I've run out of time.