was sitting on the porch of a massive, white-pillared mansion, listening to my friend Margaret rattle off her gifts like she was reading a scoreboard.
She waved her hand toward the estate behind us and explained that when her first child was born, her husband built her this house as a reward.
“Well, isn’t that nice,” I said.
Then she pointed to the gleaming Cadillac in the driveway — the gift for her second child.
“How lovely,” I replied.
