There are days I think I am raising a parrot. As I hang up a conference call, my son pipes up with not one—but two—perfect British accents. One Northern, one Welsh-based. While he cannot tell me which accent hales from which region, he mimics the pronunciations perfectly. Unremarkable until he does the same with Indian,…
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Blink and it’s gone
At the crack of dawn, I was already driving home from the airport, wiping big mama tears from my cheeks. My eldest was headed back to Texas, his fireman gear packed efficiently per his norm. Military precision is his modus operandi. While he was getting ready to board a plane, I was heading back to…
