Recently a friend was describing to me one of her saddest
childhood memories. Every day she’d come home from school to an empty house and
relax on the couch in front of the TV for a while. Inevitably she’d hear the
unmistakable sound of her dad’s footsteps approaching the front door. She’d
jump up, turn off the TV, and try to look busy as he greeted her with the same
three questions every day:
