You carefully monitor your genetic jewel for signs of low self-esteem. Orthodontia bills, divorce and custody battles are at least a decade away. There is nothing to worry about. At this sweet stage, it's better to imagine your son or daughter receiving the Nobel Prize in medicine. Tattoos of venomous snakes slither up both arms.
Hair is dyed dark red with white roots.
Bad boys, bad boys. There will be no Nobel Prize in our future. I reach for the phone with the intention of imparting some hardcore parental advice, even with the risk of damaging her self-esteem, which I suspect is actually soaring. With the phone in hand I realize she has left to visit her mom in another state. So I call down to California several times with no answer.