There was a girl in my grade in elementary school whose family had FIVE kids. When I first met her, I remember saying, “Whoa,” like Sarah had just moved in from outer space instead of Shelton, Connecticut, the town to our north. When Sarah was absent for several days in a row, I figured her mom was too busy to send her to school because she had a big family. When her jeans got holes in the knees, I figured they must have been her older sister’s. When her hair was messy, it was because her parents were too busy to help her brush it. I made a lot of assumptions about Sarah’s family when I was a little girl.
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