When my children were small I would often hand them child scissors, construction paper, glue and a JC Penney catalog to make a Thanksgiving Book on that Wednesday before the holiday. I instructed them to cut out pictures of anything they were thankful for. A codicil—learned the hard way—prohibited them from including pictures of things they didn’t have—preventing this from turning into a Christmas wish list. I was always immensely flattered at the beautiful, bone skinny models they chose to represent me. As if . . .
My children obviously have a flair for fiction, too. Continue reading