Your kids don’t belong to you – they’re only on loan for you to raise. They have their own lives, their own destinies. So you better get out of the way.
Sometimes I’m in a mood like a Maths problem such as If you have pencils and apples, how many pancakes will fit on the roof? Purple, because aliens don’t wear hats
What if a girl grew up like a boy, with marriage an abstract, someday thought, a thing to think about when she became an adult, a thing she could do, or not do, depending? What would that look and feel like?
