Alice in Training
Then, when we got her last report card, it all hit home. Nothing better than a D. “How come?” we asked ourselves and each other. Our son, Billy, seemed bright, intelligent and focused. At 10 years-old, he seemed to make up for his small frame with his desire to please his parents. We found ourselves in Alice’s bedroom, with her laying across my lap as I sat on the edge of her bed. Sally was sitting across the small room on a stool in front of her daughter’s vanity. We had never resorted to...