When I came home from a trip, I discovered my three-year-old daughter trembling with her hair completely shaved off. My mother-in-law looked at her coldly and said, “That’s how children learn not to take what isn’t theirs.” – Welcome

I had always pictured it.

Then I remembered who would be arriving.

Every Thanksgiving in our house had belonged to Diane. She would show up four hours early, march directly to my dining table, and begin rearranging everything.

“Oh honey, the centerpiece is blocking the sightline.”

“Madison, sweetie, we always fold the napkins the other way.”

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