"How's the little one?"

"Her cold is better. Just sniffles. She's eating more."

I walked with Julia to the bedrooms. She went into the baby's room, bent over the crib, and kissed the sleeping child tenderly. Watching her, I thought there was something about a mother's caring that a father could never match. Julia had some connection to the kids that I never would. Or at least a different connection. She listened to the baby's soft breathing, and said, "Yes, she's better."

Then she went into Eric's room, took the Game Boy off the bed covers, gave me a frown. I shrugged, faintly irritated; I knew Eric played with his Game Boy when he was supposed to be going to sleep, but I was busy getting the baby down at that time, and I overlooked it. I thought Julia should be more understanding.

Then she went into Nicole's room. Nicole was on her laptop, but shut the lid when her mother walked in. "Hi, Mom."

"You're up late."

"No, Mom…"

"You're supposed to be doing homework."

"I did it."

"Then why aren't you in bed?"

"Because-"

"I don't want you spending all night talking to your friends on the computer."

"Mom…" she said, in a pained voice.

"You see them every day at school, that should be enough."

"Mom…"

"Don't look at your father. We already know he'll do whatever you want. I'm talking to you, now."

She sighed. "I know, Mom."

This kind of interaction was increasingly common between Nicole and Julia. I guess it was normal at this age, but I thought I'd step in. Julia was tired, and when she was tired she got rigid and controlling. I put my arm around her shoulder and said, "It's late for everybody. Want a cup of tea?"

"Jack, don't interfere."

"I'm not, I just-"

"Yes, you are. I'm talking to Nicole and you're interfering, the way you always do."