It’s Saturday night at our local microbrewery. Radek and I are chatting about the recent Czech presidential election with our neighbors. (Truth: They’re making jokes. I’m listening in hopes of improving my Czech humor.) The younger children have lined up plastic soldiers and army tanks on the wooden table and are preparing for battle. And my 13-year daughter is hunched over in an armchair at an empty table. She’s not pouting. She’s reading. …
