Because fatherhood is sometimes the biggest test of all:

I waded through the freewheel and axle issues with the Paramount, getting it ride-ready Thursday for El Tour de Tucson Saturday.
I left work Friday night and dashed off to the expo and picked up my number and other essentials.
We handed off the children to grandma Betty that night so they could be at her place while we rode the next day.
At 6am on ride day I got a call from my daughter saying that my not-quite-four-year-old son, nursing a cold when we dropped him off, was miserable and crying and wanted to be home, not at grandma's.

My wife rode. I did not. There will be another.