Our biggest challenge came years later when Nick got his hands on one of those trashy “Victoria’s Secret” advertising mailers. As a service to me, Sue always does her best to dispose of them in the garbage can as quickly as possible, but this time Nick had gotten his hands on it and was intrigued not only by the pictures of those plain and unattractive models, but by the name itself. “Dad”, he asked, “what is Victoria’s Secret?” Well now, I quickly thought, does he mean what is Victoria’s Secret or what is Victoria’s Secret? If it was the former, it could be just an innocent question about the mailer itself. If the latter, well, it was a path down which I wasn’t willing to travel. “I am not sure”, I replied, taking the brochure from his hands and depositing it in the trash, like Sue usually does. As a diversion though, I answered his question with one of my own. “Do you know where kittens come from?” I asked. “The pet store”, he said, and with that I breathed a sigh of relief, content in his normalcy and satisfied I was fulfilling my role as a parent in the sensitive Nineties.