The team raced onto the field screaming a battle cry! From high in the stands my aging eyes tried (and failed) to pick out my own son. The boys were all wearing identical uniforms and moved as one large and loud mass through a tunnel created by two parallel lines of cheerleaders.
“She’s quite bright, I hear it all the time. She’s already reading and should be an excellent peer role model.” It was my very first back-to-school night and I started to recite the mental dossier that I had prepared.
“You know what you should write about …,” my brother began. I sighed. Several years of unsolicited suggestions flashed through my head. Not all of them were bad ideas but none was a good idea for me. I usually thank people and decline politely.