Why I Make My Children’s Favorite Meal When They Are Being Awful
The other day, I got phone calls from two out of three of my children’s schools. I’ve already violated their privacy enough, so I won’t divulge the content of those phone calls, other than to say no one had broken the law, but no one had won a prize, either. I was annoyed. More than annoyed, mad. Those phone calls made it hard for me to get back to work. Why, then, did I text them to ask what they wanted for supper? And why did I make exactly what they wanted?