I arrived at my daughter’s house on Thanksgiving and found my grandson shivering outside in five-degree weather while they ate turkey inside. A few minutes later, the color drained from their faces—and I still hadn’t even knocked on the door.
When I pulled up to my daughter’s house on Thanksgiving afternoon, my grandson was sitting outside in five-degree weather in a damp gray T-shirt, and my daughter was inside eating turkey. I could see her through the dining room window before I even killed the engine. The table was set with the good plates. There…
