It’s important no one family member comes off as more stupid than any other

Sunday morning. My husband is in bed. I am in the kitchen, waiting for the coffee pot to boil. I turn up the radio; I’m trying not to listen to the small voice of my conscience.

I pour two coffees, turn off the radio. It is harder, I notice, not to listen to the small voice of my conscience when the kitchen is so quiet.

I head upstairs.