HOME ALONE

Warga, 40, an international trade consultant, has grown accustomed to his yearly sabbatical, having spent eight summers bidding his wife, Emmanuelle, bon voyage. She takes their three daughters -- Marguerite, 8, Lucie, 5, and Juliette, 1 -- to France to see her family and immerse them in French culture.

Warga embraces his freedom, imagining all the work he'll get done once he's no longer shackled by car pools and a gazillion chores. He takes down the child safety gates and lets the dirty dishes pile up in the sink. He commandeers the dining room table, spreading out his laptop and stacks of papers, the undisputed master of his domain.

He does what he wants when he wants. One afternoon, a Nationals game. One night, poker in Arlington. On a Sunday night, at an hour when he'd normally be bathing the kids, he met Langenbacher and a few buddies at the Brickskeller ("World's Largest Selection of Beers"), where they compared notes on the solo life.

"I find myself getting used to it," Langenbacher shrugged.

Of course, before she leaves each summer, his wife, Kay, stocks the house with a couple of cases of Heineken and 24 rolls of toilet paper and stows a Japanese stew in the freezer. She makes their bed with six layers of sheets so he just has to strip them off one by one.

Langenbacher is fully aware of the benefits of their separation, not the least of which is that it gives him a break from what he describes as her annoying habits -- like the heinous omission of not returning the cordless phone to the cradle. "It drives me nuts!" he said.

Nor does he have to feel guilty that "we're not doing enough for the kids," he said. "I have no obligations. That's the best part."

Actually, it gets better. There are lazy barbecues, afternoon movies (he's working his way through the American Film Institute's top 100) and impromptu naps.

Stahl, 45, a Sterling consultant, said he was initially less than pleased when his wife, Carla, sprung it on him that she was taking their daughters -- Lily, 6, and Liv, 9 months -- back home to Guam for the summer. But how could he argue? Her father, Guam's former governor, is running for his old seat and wanted his family around for the campaign.

"It was a hard decision," said Stahl before acknowledging that "It was a little harder for me. She made up her mind to go pretty quickly."

Somehow he has managed.

One afternoon, he went with a friend to a batting cage, drank beer and swung at fastballs until he could no longer lift the bat. On another, he went online and bought a powerboat for $6,500, a purchase he still hasn't gotten around to telling her about.