Our first clues that fostering a teenager would be absurdly terrifying occurred while Canada and I were fingerprinted. Absurd? The fingerprinting form had two sections, the top for adopting an animal and the bottom for adopting a human. Our finger-printer was an exhausted, distracted woman who paled when her cellphone rang. She apologized as she answered. FINGER-PRINTER: I have to answer. My son’s been missing…
