It’s 9pm. I emerge groggy-eyed from our son, Wolf’s, bedroom.
“Flubbsies?” Jeff asks.
”Mmmmhmm.” I reply. Flubbsies is our word for this moment of coming out of a darkened bedroom, bleary-eyed, squinting at the light, after falling asleep putting the kid to bed.
”So you want to rehearse that new song...