The portrait of my parents is a complicated one, but lovingly drawn.

Those who rhapsodize about the ease and joy of childhood have perhaps forgotten what it's like to be 12 years old.

A good home must be made, not bought.

If a man wishes to truly not be written about, he would do well not to write letters to 18-year-old girls, inviting them into his life.

One of the sad realities of being a parent is that the same stuff you know is exciting, educational, and enriching in your child'slife is often messy, smelly and exhausting to deal with.

For a parent, it's hard to recognize the significance of your work when you're immersed in the mundane details. Few of us, as we run the bath water or spread the peanut butter on the bread, proclaim proudly, "I'm making my contribution to the future of the planet." But with the exception of global hunger, few jobs in the world of paychecks and promotions compare in significance to the job of parent.

Long after Salinger sent me away, I continued to believe his standards and expectations were the best ones.