Every evening our father found something wrong with Mike, who was four, five, seven, or ten or thirteen. At six he squirmed trying to cut his meat, and our father stared: "When are you going to learn to use a knife?" Mike's back was touching the chair back. "Chair backs are not made for leaning on," our father said. "Sit up straight." Why wasn't his napkin in his lap? Was this behavior deliberate? "Are you mocking me?"--from the book The Dunns seemed...