Tonight ends my four-day stint as a single parent. Having spent the New Year’s weekend with my nine year old adopted sister I have a renewed picture of the work parenting is. She is a good kid, full of energy, cleverness, and wonder of the world. She is a bit of an anomaly, eschewing pop music for opera and telling complete strangers that the TV rots your brain. I took her to the Outback Steakhouse and she says to the waitress “I don’t like this music.” “So what kind of music do you like?” “Opera, but it’s okay, you don’t have to change it.” I am most certain that is the first time the waitress has heard that from a kid. Now that you know what material I was working with you might forgive me for
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