At my own lake house, my daughter-in-law pointed to the little room by the tool shed and said, ‘That’s your room for the week.’ My room was the corner room facing the water. I took my phone down to the dock, changed one setting, and a few minutes later, my son came down asking a very different question.
“That’s your room for the week.” My daughter-in-law pointed to the door at the end of the hall without even looking at me. She was already turning back toward the kitchen, one hand around the stem of a wine glass, the other holding her phone, speaking in that calm, managerial tone people use when they…
