After five boys, my wife had almost given up on ever having a daughter.
Claire joked about it constantly.
“This has to be your fault,” she’d tell me whenever she folded another pile of tiny boys’ clothes.
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After five boys, my wife had almost given up on ever having a daughter.
Claire joked about it constantly.
“This has to be your fault,” she’d tell me whenever she folded another pile of tiny boys’ clothes.
There were many nights when I wondered whether I had failed those girls. Had I worked too much? Listened too little? Said the wrong…