Kat had agreed to be the babysitter for the evening, and when I returned to the house. She elected to go back home rather than stay the night in one of the spare bedrooms. I checked on my daughter, who was sprawled out in her crib with her blanket kicked off and her binky just a hand's reach away. Her diaper was dry so I left her alone, doubting that she would get a chill. Like Paul, she ran hot.

It worries me because BJ is a product of one of those despicable, raping Polish ...