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Susie


I expected my daughter to have a bit of a struggle with camp, and I was fully wrong. Susie was cool and collected on Day One, and she did not give me a parting glance once she had entered the classroom.

By contrast, the one and only boy in her group, Theo, seemed to be having a meltdown. "He is upset because he went to the dentist yesterday," said his mother, and I swear that I caught my daughter rolling her eyes.

When Amy Schumer learned that she had endometriosis, she asked for info about the cure, and doctors said, "We don't study this one all that closely, because it doesn't happen to men." And Schumer said: "Right. We have nineteen different shapes for Viagra, but endometriosis just can't be a priority." I resented little Theo for sucking all the oxygen out of his classroom--although I know it's iffy to have these kinds of feelings about a small child.

Having packed Susie's bag for Day Two, I noticed that she had discarded her beloved stuffed doggie. I asked her about this, and she did a kind of disdainful Miranda Priestly move with her wrist, as if to say, "A stuffy is for an infant." She marched out the door.

At the end of a session, she looks at me and says, "OK. OK. Let's go." And she sprints onward toward the car.

She picks up a small beanie and hoists it to her ear, as if speaking on a cell phone.

She clears her throat, impatiently, if I'm just frozen on my feet.....
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