As my wife and I strolled the cozy little streets of downtown Fernandina Beach, there was a moment when I think we both turned to each other and blurted out, “Where’s the baby?!?” That’s normally a running joke with us. If we go out to lunch sans the 2-1/2-year-old, someone will inevitably stop to ask where the kid is. “Oh my gosh,” one of us will say, hands clasped to face, “where’d she go!?!” or “I told you not to give her the car keys?” Sometimes people laugh; sometimes people call 911. It’s a mixed bag of reactions. But this time it didn’t feel like a joke. It really felt like we’d lost her — like we didn’t know where she was. “Um, didn’t you have her?” Here we were, a whopping 50-plus miles from St. Augustine, spending our first night EVER away from her. We felt naked, and it was kind of unnerving. A part of us — an important part — was missing. It felt weird, kind of awkward and almost like a guilty pleasure. Were we guilty of something? And most of all, would she be OK? Would she miss us? Would she think we weren’t ever coming back? Would she understand? Would she sell off the house or get her nose pierced? Who’s to say? We didn’t know. Yet, at the same time, it was also quite nice. We were celebrating our 10th wedding anniversary. It was three months late. I had ruined the real anniversary … Continue reading A Weekend Away From the ‘Baby’