I laughed out loud when I saw my older son come out of his apartment building in a navy blue bathrobe and slippers. He looked like he’d stolen the outfit from the Sears Catalog.
When did he become such a man? I thought to myself. When did he stop wearing jam shorts and giant t-shirts? It was astonishing. Was the robe velour?
My children, the four of them, they are people who grew up in my house but they’re no more my creations than the Grand Canyon or the Mona Lisa.
Take my younger son, Joe, for instance.
For a long time, my job was to keep the world from chewing Joe up. He was orphaned at an early age, disadvantaged by having lived in an orphanage, but he found his footing pretty quickly and then my job was to keep him safe which I did well enough for a…
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