I'm linking to this great article I read today:
Recently, I had a discussion with my friend Liz. Her brother Marc and his wife Tammy had adopted Tammy’s nephew after his mother died and his father wound up in prison. Tammy’s nephew, Paul, had been living with them for three years now, and had “come a long way”. Seems he’d been something of a bad seed in the beginning, but had straightened out and was pretty good now.
That was all fine and well, but then Liz complained about how awful Paul’s room always looked. Dirty and messy. She said, “He needs to be more grateful. Without my brother’s help, who knows where he would’ve wound up."
I blew up.
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