Getting out of the way, consistently

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While I was folding laundry the other day, my living room was transformed into a Rainbow-Loom-how-to-video-studio. I kept hearing a voice, a commanding, seemingly authoritative voice, coming from the other room, and the closer I got the more I realized that there wasn’t, in fact, a juvenile newscaster in my house, but that my kid was apparently talking to no one. Yes, there he was, Youngest, telling everyone on YouTube how to make a fishtail bracelet. . . .

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