Growing up, I always imagined my life as a parent being just like Samantha’s from Bewitched. (I know I am really dating myself here; many of you reading this probably don’t even know who I am talking about.) So let me set the stage.
The camera zooms in on beautifully dressed Samantha, gliding across the wall-to-wall carpeted floor with her also beautifully dressed young daughter, Tabatha, in her arms. She eagerly greets her husband at the end of his tiring day. A piping hot dinner served on fine China awaits him in the formal dining room. Sweet, compliant Tabatha somehow magically disappears from the scene, apparently having toddled off to bed on her own, leaving her parents to chat and enjoy their meal undisturbed.
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