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Dad Diary

 My daughter is enchanted by disguise; she has embraced "hide-and-seek," though she doesn't grasp the rules. She thinks the point is to shout, loudly, "I'm over here! I'm hiding over here! Pretend to ask the crossing guard, and see if you can find me!"


It's not a shock, then, that she loves the Disney fairy tales, which are all about curses, reversed curses, elaborate costuming. "Sleeping Beauty"--the greatest of the greats--has Aurora assume the role of a peasant girl in an effort to save her own life. It also has the fabulous Maleficent in human form; it's only in Act Three that we discover Maleficent is truly a dragon. (You can draw a straight line from the dragon to Ursula the Sea Witch, who assumes the dimensions of a tsunami at the end of "The Little Mermaid.")

Susie is most comfortable speaking "through" the mask of a stuffed cow, a princess doll, a plastic mermaid. I see myself in this; it's easiest for me to write if I'm assuming the character of an outrageous neighbor or of Joshua's narcissistic school principal. Walking in the shoes of these NJ residents, I take my own silliest traits and "blow them up" on a massive scale. It's amazing to me that Susie does this in her own intuitive way.

My daughter's "work" this year has been an effort to resist peer pressure and take steps toward self-control. One way she dramatizes this is through a music box. My husband becomes a dancing dalmatian puppy; he gets carried away by loudly singing Taylor Swift songs. Susie--acting as headmistress--produces a music box and cranks up a soothing Tchaikovsky tune. The puppy is pacified, then revolts. And is pacified. And revolts. This happens again and again and again.

Susie finishes; she grabs a cupcake off the counter. "In case it's my birthday tomorrow," she says. "Now come here. PLAY with me."






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