One Sunday evening Toby came home unusually solemn, lining his shoes up by the door.

“Dad says he has to pay lots of extra money now,” he said, “because of your legal choices.”

I knelt down and took his small hands.

“Grown-ups are responsible for their own choices, buddy,” I said.

“Every single one.

You never have to worry about grown-up money, and you never, ever have to take a side between your dad and me.”

“So we’re not super poor?” he asked.