On a typical Tuesday evening, I walked into my in-laws’ house to find my children with completely empty plates, while their nieces and nephews were eating their third helping of lasagna from a “real” dinner set. Eighteen minutes later, I quietly decided I’d had enough of being their personal ATM, and that something in this family was about to go wrong in a way no one expected.

“Okay,” Mia said. Her voice had that cautious, neutral tone she used when she didn’t want to offend anyone or avoid trouble.

At the age of nine, my daughter has already learned to be less serious, to minimize her needs and feelings so that others feel comfortable. When did this happen? When did I allow it?
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Family

“Did you play together?” I asked, looking from my children to their cousins.

Evan shook his head—and thank God for his honesty, because he hadn’t yet learned to lie to protect other people’s feelings.

“They were playing different games,” he said quietly.

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