The flight was chaos. Ava spilled juice on me, Mason screamed, and even the guy sitting next to me begged to switch seats. Then Eric texted about how amazing the food was — complete with a warm towel emoji — while I was cleaning spit-up with a floor baby wipe. When we landed, I was exhausted and covered in stains, while Eric strolled off refreshed. His father, waiting at baggage claim, hugged the twins, called me a “champion,” and gave Eric a cold stare. Later that night, I overheard my father-in-law firmly telling Eric how wrong his behavior had been.