No more breakfast wars. Possibly.
Laundry pile will be just as big, but will smell better.
Air quality index values tilt to favor Victoria's Secret "Pure Seduction" over Axe body spray.
Monthly hormone double feature will have one less trigger but will actually seem worse to sole remaining male household member.
Pool of suspects halved.
Cold case file re: empty milk and juice cartons in refrigerator can finally be closed.
Household soundtrack remix will feature less profanity but way too much of those fucking Boy Bands.
Grocery shopping battles will take place in the cosmetic aisle instead of the cereal aisle.
Garbage Day, the long-running three-act play that opens with a series of increasingly hostile reminders and closes with me taking the garbage out - a surprise ending to no one but me - will continue its weekly performances, but will now be played strictly for sentimental reasons.
Responsibility for pointing out errors in my driving, navigation, grocery shopping and operation of household electronics will shift to 15-year-old girl, who already has her hands full trying to keep up with serious flaws in my grooming routine and wardrobe choices.
I miss him already.