As we were gathered around opening Christmas presents, my five-year-old suddenly shouted with joy,….

“She makes me uncomfortable,” he said. “When we’re alone, she says things.”

“What kind of things?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Compliments. About my suit, my cologne. Nothing extreme, but… weird.”

At the time, I felt oddly reassured. He’d come to me. He’d been honest. It felt like proof that we were still a team.

So we fired her.