When I was a toddler, my mom managed to crack an invite to the fanciest parenting group in town, held at the very posh house of the queen bee of local moms’ clubs. After noticing I’d been eerily quiet for the previous few minutes, she discovered that I’d snuck to the bathroom and was systematically stuffing every book this swanky woman owned down the toilet. My mom, loyal accomplice that she is, fished the books out of the U-bend, stuffed the soggy tomes under her shirt, and snuck both of us outside, where we proceeded to stash the evidence in the neighbour’s rubbish bins.
Most of us owe our parents more than we can ever thank them for. But life comes full circle, and eventually many of us will face the question of
