Mostly, I remember all the laughter. Sure, there were dark times, but my parents saw to it that there were a lot of laughs in the house I grew up in. Whether it was my mother drawing Christmas pictures on the naked pink belly of the family cockapoo, Cinder (washable markers, of course) or my father announcing that his favorite gum was Feenamint, things were always pretty light in our odd little house. We were often inappropriate — unabashedly so — but sometimes, that’s what kept us going, I’m pretty sure. Still does. My last birthday, my mom sent me a glossy card with a photo of a toucan on the front. Inside, it read, “See that beak? Know what you can do?”
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