My mother came to Oregon for a visit when
our son CJ was ten. As many of you know, my mother is a firecracker who doesn’t
suffer fools easily. It was tax season and Mrs. C. was working overtime at an
accounting firm. One evening after CJ had finished his homework, he walked
through the dining room and saw his grandmother playing a game of solitaire. I
couldn’t help overhearing their conversation.
Read about it (here).
