A typical car ride home:
After school, pulling up to a stoplight, I mention the guy on the bike with the empty baby seat behind him.
Me: Oo. Look at that invisible baby!
Julianna (she’s 11): What baby? Where?
Me: On the bike, behind the guy.
Isabella (9): Daddy, there’s no baby there?
Me: Yes, there is. It’s invisible.
J: Dad, there’s no baby there.
Iz: Yeah, the chair is empty.
Me: It’s an invisible baby. (Scientifically wistful…) They are very rare.
J: Wait. You can see it? An actual baby?
Me: Yes, definitely.
Iz: How do you know there’s a baby there?! I can’t see it!
J: Yeah, how?! How can you see an invisible baby?!
Me: Because, I know what an invisible baby looks like.
And, this is why they hate me.