I left my husband with the kids while I went on a week-long trip, thinking it wouldn’t be a big deal. But when I got home, I found my boys sleeping on the cold, dirty hallway floor.

My heart dropped. Something was wrong. Was there a fire? A flood? No, my husband would’ve told me.

I flicked the light off and carefully stepped over the boys, heading deeper into the house.

I opened our bedroom door — empty. My husband was gone at midnight? That’s weird.

Then I went to check the boys’ room, bracing myself for the worst.

I approached, and I heard muffled noises. Quietly, without turning on the light, I cracked the door open to see what was happening. I GASPED out loud, as in a dim light I saw Mark, headphones on, controller in hand, surrounded by empty energy drink cans and snack wrappers. But that wasn’t even the craziest part.

The room had been transformed into some kind of gamer paradise. A massive TV took up one wall, there were LED lights everywhere, and I’m pretty sure that monstrosity in the corner was a mini-fridge.

I was in shoc:k. Mark hadn’t even noticed me yet, too engrossed in whatever game he was playing.

I yanked the headphones off his head. “Mark! What the hell is going on?”

He blinked at me, “Oh, hey babe. You’re home early.”