When My Child Mentioned “Aunt Phoebe,” Everything Fell Apart

belong in my mouth.

Noah didn’t even look up. “Aunt Phoebe. She has a dog. Biscuit. He can shake hands now.”

My brain tried to do the math and couldn’t find the numbers. We didn’t have an Aunt Phoebe. We didn’t have any Phoebes at all. Not in my phone, not on Christmas card lists, not in the orbit of playdates and birthday parties and polite waves at continue reading …