I rush to the school to pick her up at 3:30 p.m. She bounces out of the school and climbs into the car, words rushing out of her before the door even closes.
“I was just talking to my friend. We have so much in common! We both like the color purple. My favorite number is eighty-eight. Her favorite number is eighty-eight. I like polka dots. She likes polka dots! I have a brother. She has a brother! I’m getting a dog in one year . . . she already has a dog!”
Is there anything more delightful than a daughter in the first grade?
(I ask you because you will smile and agree that, yes, she is a delight. If I ask my sixth-grade son, he will make a throwing up noise and express disgust aimed in his sister’s general direction. I hope he outgrows this generalized hatred of his sister.)