Julie and the two younger children just took off for a six-day trip, leaving Matthew, 15, and me at home. Confided Matt to me earlier this morning, “When Mom and the kids go, I’m going to put on the Clash, and turn it up just to the point where the boom from the speakers threatens to kick the needle out of the groove.”

That’s my boy. Forty-five seconds after Julie’s SUV cleared the driveway, we were listening to “Clash City Rockers” at volume 11. Soon to come: Man Movie Marathon, a parade of films that Mom, being a girl and all, finds yucky, inappropriate, and un-British-costume-drama-like. Caddyshack, here we come! There may be eating ice cream out of tubs, the dog sleeping in the bed, and much, much worse.

‘Tis bliss to be alive.