My Husband Texted “Stay Upstairs” Before Our Son’s Birthday—Then an Officer at the Door and a Blue Folder Changed What He Thought He Knew

“What’s happening to it?”

“It leans.

Dad says we need three hands.”

“Lucky I have two.”

He considered that calculation and assigned one of mine to the wall.

Ethan held the base.

I steadied the upper piece.

Noah pressed the cardboard tab into its slot and told us not to move until he counted to ten.