My 36-year-old son called me a freeloader during Sunday dinner, even though he, his wife, and their child had lived in my house rent-free for two years.

Then I hung the old key beside mine.

It no longer opened anything.

But I decided to keep it anyway.

Because sometimes loving your children means opening your door when they need help. And sometimes it means teaching them that your kindness is a gift, not something they are entitled to take.