Before last week, I thought hot pink handcuffs were reserved for a naughty midnight rendezvous or some other illicit affair. I never once considered they might actually be used to shackle my son and remand him into the custody of the local county detention center. And yet, there I sat, saying quick goodbyes, reaffirming my […]

[Editor's note: this is a re-post from November 2010. Part of a series of year-end posts I write each year. When we migrated to the new site design, all the old posts were archived.]