If you write about the American dream, you first have to define it. My sister is probably the epitome. At 23, she found a hardworking, handsome, sweetheart of a businessman, fell in love, got married, bought a “starter house” in the suburbs and popped out kids, 1,2,3. Now she has a pool, a four-bedroom colonial, and a Cadilac SUV. Her girls get good grades, are scheduled with activities, she just renovated her kitchen, she goes to book group religiously and she still keeps her career going part time.