The American Family Needs A Grandma

Did you grow up with parents who fought? I did. Mine fought loudly, and often. We lived in the woods, in Alaska, where a person could really carry on without having to worry about what the neighbors might think.

Those fights were often triggered by something that my brother and I had done, or failed to do. A water pistol battle out of hand, a chore not finished. Whatever it was, it would trigger a…