Brenda, honey? Sweetheart? I’m home! Sorry I’m late, but it’s so good to be back. You know how it is in this day and age — sometimes a quick trip to the gas station can take 36 hours. Wowee, what a line that was.

Wait. Pam said what? Give me a second. You’re saying she spotted me strolling through the park with an entirely different family? And that a strange woman pecked me on the cheek and two kids called me “Dad”? And that when she confronted me, I ducked behind a bush and made unconvincing bird noises to confuse her?

That Pam, wow, she has quite the imagination. Obviously, she got a little mixed-up. That guy wasn’t me. Pam couldn’t have seen me that clearly from six feet away, after all. And how could she possibly recognize me when I’m wearing this bandana around my mouth? And since when is she an expert in ornithology?

You’ve got it all wrong. Of course I haven’t been splitting my time with a secret second family that lives on the other side of town! Like I said, I just ran out to the gas station for the eighth time this week. Here, I got you a scratch-off ticket. Evidence! Of my love for you, that is. I wouldn’t want to be holed-up with any other woman during this crisis. When the going gets tough, I like to think back on our happiest times. Times like our honeymoon in Honolu — shit — I mean, Punta Cana. You’re my rock. Such a heavy rock that I can only carry one of you!

It seems like we’re losing track here. Okay, sure, I’ll entertain this funny little hypothetical of yours. What kind of man would even want to have to deal with a second family at any point? I have enough on my plate with our three little rascals, thank you very much, so I don’t need a second-grader and a freshman in high school on top of that. You think I want to sneak around just so I can help out with times tables homework and give advice on how to ask a girl out? No sirree! I’m getting tired just thinking about those hypotheticals. So very tired.

Now you’re saying that you’ve searched the entire house and that “the clues are all around us.” Slow down there, Sherlock. There’s a perfectly rational explanation for all of this. Yes, I do have a second driver’s license registered to “Guy Otherman.” I see that you’ve also found my collection of false mustaches and wigs. It does seem like I have a secret identity stored away, but that’s only if I need a second version of me to do something great, like give to charity twice. Or start a beach volleyball team.

During these trying times, we need to stick together and stay safe. Until this pandemic business is completely behind us, I don’t want you or the kids doing anything like going out in public or googling my name. But if you do have to go somewhere for essentials, please do me a favor and don’t go anywhere near those townhouses on Dogwood Lane.

I’m glad we were able to clear this up. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go upstairs and take a quick Zoom call with my boss. Word around the company is that if I don’t say goodnight and read him Goodnight Moon right this second, it’s gonna be my ass! Oh, and don’t be alarmed if you hear me speaking in a Scottish accent.

Thanks for understanding, sugar — you’re my favorite wife in the whole wide world.