One week before Christmas, my son and daughter-in-law planned to exhaust me with babysitting 8 kids so they could declare me “senile” and steal my house. For
I didn’t turn my phone off immediately. I needed to know the exact moment the illusion shattered. Sitting by a crackling fire in my friend’s Maine cottage, I watched my screen light up at exactly 9:15 AM on Christmas Eve. The first texts from Amanda were predictably entitled: “Mom, where are you? The kids are…