Okay, so it turns out that not all the girls I went to middle schools turned out to be total wastes of space. I've wound up friending several of them on Facebook, and aside from occasional epic differences in politics (southern Maryland is The South, y'all, and don't you forget it). One in particular I've rebonded with is Erin Gross . Erin is a totally fun blogger and a wicked writer. She's fun, and funny, and made a hell of an Ebeneezer Scrooge when we put him on trial for a book report project in the eighth grade. She is also, emphatically, an extrovert . Her son, it turns out, is an introvert . She has been completely, and sometimes painfully, honest about her quandaries about how to raise a person with such different needs from herself. This is where I come in. I am an introvert. Wow am I an introvert. I need a day off to recover from family dinners involving more people than my immediate family. So, when Erin would make a blog post about ...
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