The true horror came when my mother suggested I ‘let go’ of some items.

My mother smiled. That was the first warning sign.

The house my mother had found was larger. Three bedrooms instead of two. A backyard with an actual tree. From a real estate perspective, it was an upgrade. From a Sheldon Cooper perspective, it was a catastrophe.

As it turned out, that house became the backdrop for many of my formative traumas and triumphs. The football game did not turn me into a sports fan. But I did learn to appreciate the ritual of it—the same way I appreciate a well-run laboratory.

“Hit him, Johnson! Break his legs!”

I turned to my father. “Is that hyperbole, or does Georgie actually wish for orthopedic trauma?”