Wolverines at my doorstep

Sometimes when talking to the various professionals involved in my child's life, especially those connected to the world of education, I feel like I am explaining to them about the wild child I found at the foot of my garden. This would require a much bigger yard than I have now, and a brambly tumble of branches in front of a wall at the far end of it, where one day, quite unexpectedly, I found a feral child, huddling and snarling. Because I am a good and responsible person, I am housing and feeding this child and arranging for an education for him. Otherwise, I have no idea where he came from or how he managed to have been, apparently, raised up to this point by a combination of wolverines and banshees.

Other days, I feel like I am Helen Keller's parents and if Annie Sullivan ever showed up, she would backhand me across the house.