The alarm jangled. Bleary-eyed from too little sleep, Sherrie shut off the noisy intruder, turned on the bedside lamp, and sat up in bed. Looking blankly at the wall, she tried to get her bearings. Why am I dreading this day? Lord, didn’t you promise me a life of joy? Then, as the cobwebs left her mind, Sherrie remembered the reason for her dread: the four-o’clock meeting with Todd’s third-grade teacher. The phone call returned to her memory: “Sherrie, this is Jean Russell.
I wonder if we could meet about Todd’s performance and his... .behavior.” Todd couldn’t keep still and listen to his teachers. He didn’t even listen to Sherrie and Walt. Todd was such a strong-willed child, and she didn’t want to quench his spirit. Wasn’t that more important? “Well, no time to worry about all that,” Sherrie said to herself, raising her thirty-five-year-old body off the bed and padding to the shower. “I’ve got enough troubles to keep me busy all day.” Under the shower, Sherrie’s mind moved out of first gear. She began mentally ticking off the day’s schedule. Todd, nine, and Amy, six, would have been a handful even if she weren’t a working mother