When my youngest child Christopher was about 8, I got a phone call from his teacher about some misbehavior at school. When Chris got home, I sat down with him, away from his siblings, in a quiet room. I explained to him what Miss Emily had told me. I was kind but firm. Chris had made great eye contact with me during my whole brilliant speech. I paused, and asked him to tell me what he thought. “You need to touch up your roots, Mom.  They’re really gray.”

He’s 23 now.  Still keeping it real, my baby boy.