JR often watched TV with Grandma—either he would watch his cartoon or educational programs, or she would watch HGTV or a tattoo competition series . . .
Beautiful spring day in Ohio. Laundry room in the basement. Hanging clothes on the inside line from the dryer so they won’t be a wrinkled mess. My son, as usual, hungry for a snack. How does he always know when I don’t want to be interrupted in the middle of a task? . . .
When the doorbell rang, I almost didn’t answer it. I wasn’t expecting anyone at seven on a Tuesday night . . .
To date we’d always had the twins enrolled in all the same sports and activities. But when they turned six they started to express different interests . . .
Potty training is a bitch. It should be easy, right? How hard could it actually be? . . .
We had recently moved and were delighted to find a babysitter across the street and a few doors down. Allison was about fourteen and lived with her dad, who had told us that his wife had recently passed away . . .
Dear Son, Honestly, I should’ve started this campaign long ago, back when you were a fetus and your behavior was under control. Today the case is nearly hopeless . . .
I am a distinguished professor. I am a dignified person. I have a doctorate. I am important in academic circles . . .