Well, the girls and I survived three days without their mother. S. arrived home from her trip to visit her new nephew this afternoon and found a house that was remarkably clean,* three daughters that were still alive and happy to see her, and a slightly tired husband.

(In my opinion.)

And suddenly it’s the final day of the year. And decade for that matter. I still owe you a Decade in Music essay, which I’m rethinking a bit after a book I read last week.

I found this essay by sports writer Dan Shanoff on Wednesday. It’s quite nice and got me thinking about the amazing changes in my life over the past ten years. What’s made those changes fun is the majority of my readers have gone through many of the same changes at the same time. Most of us rang in the new millennium single. Few of my friends who were already married had started having children. Even as we were getting older and adding responsibilities, most of us were living lives filled with freedom.

On December 31, 1999 I was single, living in downtown Kansas City, working for a Fortune 500 company, drove a 4Runner, and spent most of my weekends cruising a handful of bars with a close group of friends. I’ll admit, after a decade of epic failure romantically, by 1999 I had kind of given up on long term relationships and decided just to go with the flow. If I met a nice girl and we went out for a few weeks and then went separate ways, that was fine. No stressing about what each relationship might bring. Enjoy the company of someone interesting and be thankful for whatever good comes out of it.

In late April 2000, I was introduced to a young lady who was soon moving to Kansas City. Two months later she established residence on the Plaza, made an appearance at my birthday party, and a few nights later we had our first date. Things went well and she’s yet to stop returning my calls.

So on December 31, 2009 I am married, living in Indianapolis, a father of three girls I take care of full-time, the holder of a Master’s degree, a part-time sports writer, driver of a minivan, and if I’m lucky I’m in a bar three or four times a year. All because I met a nice girl four months into the new millennium.

Some decade. I hope I haven’t used up all my good luck.

Happy New Year to you all.