One Dad Reveals How Being A Father Made Him A Better Husband

It’s time for me to confess: I’ve been seeing another woman.

No, she’s not a cocktail waitress or a nightclub promoter or a porn star, but she’s cute, has a killer smile and looks good in a dress. I’ve tried to rationalize the relationship as the inevitable by-product of a common stagnation period for marriages: my wife Dorothy and I are about to enter our fifth year.

But that argument just doesn’t fit. Dorothy’s beautiful, smart and successful. We have common habits (doing laundry) and convictions (we don’t like Walmart, but shop there anyway), and cohabiting is easy: we prefer crunchy peanut butter to smooth, Brian Williams to Katie Couric, and “Lost” to… are there any other shows? Further, Dorothy’s one hundred percent Italian—the daughter of a businessman with less than loose mafia ties who would put me underground if I so much as frowned at his “little girl.”

See how easy fidelity should be?

Still, from the first minute I met this other woman, I couldn’t resist her charms. Read more

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