Everyone knows that old saying. Let go of the thing you love. If it’s meant to be yours, it will eventually come back to you. Advice well-heeded in the case of old high school boyfriends and the baby squirrel my brothers once tried to make into a household pet. Advice that is much harder to bear, however, when it comes to the thing we love above all else: our children.
I’m in an undisclosed location (Sorry: No narcs) listening to six dudes who aren’t supposed to be in a rock band being the best rock band in the world—well, at least in a 30-mile radius—at 5 pm on a dreary football Sunday in January.