“Mom, I wish we lived in that house.” Perched inside her playset lookout tower, my daughter cast wistful glances toward the neighbor’s yard a few houses north. “Why? I thought you liked our house.” “Well, they have a pool and a picnic table.” Ah. I see. “But they don’t have a sandbox. Or swings. Or all of your favorite toys inside,” I reasoned. “Just because they have a pool doesn’t mean that house is better. We belong here, in our house.” Wise counsel, O Super Mom. Maybe you should take it yourself. How many times have I wished for someone …
