Jaimee got the block three-quarters of the way out when the tower leaned too far and crashed. “No, no, no!” she cried out, fiercely upset about losing. Thankfully, Dad knew all the tricks to calm us whenever we were hurting. We shook hands in good sportsmanship, did the dishes in an assembly line, and carried laundry upstairs before the lights were out. At Dad’s, I never had to sing myself to sleep. The sound of the evening train was my lullaby, and it was always right on time.
