CHAPTER FOUR
“WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?” MY MOTHER SAID from her post at the kitchen sink. I was flying through the house and about to push open the screen door to freedom. To be precise, I was headed to the garage to jump on the new and highly coveted blue banana seat bike my grandparents had given me for my tenth birthday. Stopped in my tracks, I knew the answer to Mom’s question was … nowhere. I hauled myself back upstairs to my bedroom, where I would stay until I had written a heartfelt thank-you card to my grandparents.
My mom was a drill sergeant about good manners in general and thank-you notes in particular. Marjorie Susman took to parenting with gusto and believed ...
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