I said, “Show me what you were doing.”“Huh uh, no,” he pleaded.“You were beating off, weren’t you?” I demanded.He looked at me with shoc... on his face. He had never heard his sister use such words. Tears began to flow from his eyes. “Oh sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” I said as I wrapped my arms around him. I whispered in his ear, “A healthy 13-year-old boy needs to beat off every once in a while. Now let me see that peter of yours.”“Huh uh,” he said as he tried to squirm away. This morning, he had to drop off some papers for Sam. He walked through the front door of the townhome that Alex shared with her husband, Peter, feeling resigned to another session of feeling inferior. He stopped in the hallway outside the door to her basement office, hearing her speaking somewhat excitedly, and crept toward the door, which was slightly ajar. Peering inside, he could see her pacing by her desk, and he was instantly hard over what he saw. Alex was on the phone, wrapped in a. More

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