No Old Feelings Under the Scalpel

Summary

At the parent-teacher conference, the teacher asked kids to grade their parents and explain.

My son’s note reached me, with two lines in childish handwriting:

“Dad, 100 points. Aunty, 100 points.”

“Mom, 2 points. I hate you. You rooined my family.”

Still too young to spell “ruined” right, he already knew how to blame his mother.

After the meeting, I was the only parent kept behind. When I finally left at sunset, my son was gone.

As I searched, a familiar voice cut through the dusk.

“You should never have fought for Dylan, Avery. You can’t make him happy.”