The day begins with an unremarkable argument: The Child is slow, we are late. A heated exchange is followed by a silent drive.

Mid-morning, the school calls: They want to schedule a meeting with me, the school counselor, and the head of school. They have some concerns. They ask me to suggest a time; meetings are moved to accommodate me.

The annual fundraiser has concluded, so I can think of only one reason for this urgent meeting, which I’ve been expecting for some time: The Child is being asked to leave. Her grades are not what they should be; she is rebellious, angry, frequently foul-mouthed.

I have an hour to get ready for the meeting, so I take a shower, and stand in the steam wondering what one wears to such a meeting, or if it even matters.

I call my friend the college professor: Success in school does not equate to success in life, he reminds me.

It helps, but only a little: My life is filled with social media posts proclaiming the successes of other people’s children.

Try to see the big picture, he says.

I let my coworkers know I’ll be out for an hour, put the foster dog into his crate, and drive to school for the second time that morning.