On a warm spring evening in front of a friend's house, I hurried with my 13-year-old into the car and shut the door. "Did something happen at the bar mitzvah?" I asked. He calmly said no and asked why. "B's father just called Daddy over to talk privately and he looked somber," I explained. "If something's up, I'd rather hear it from you."
Read moreRona:The Rest of the Story
You'll find restaurant updates and recommendations on my website, but I have to be careful there: Stick to the theme, stay politically correct, etc. Here I'll let loose -- about being a mom, a wife, an angry consumer or an elated editor. I'll be honest and I beg you to be too.