I’ve still never been to the Intrepid, but I hear the skittles are good.

dad

We are lucky to love all of Kina’s doctors, but her allergist in particular, because Kina’s allergies are weird and most doctor’s offices are horrid. Dr. Patel, on the other hand, is ultra-cool and sweet, and so Kina really looks forward to her annual visit, whose protocol of pricking arms with itchy substances should in any other case provoke revulsion. This year, Kina’s signature niche sesame allergy came up a little light, and so we have to find a convenient occasion to feed her a hamburger bun—stressful but promising. Kina got a lollipop out of the bargain, which is like icing on the cake. Fun at the allergist—who knew?

dad

She knows how to find what she likes. Keep up, will you?

dad

This is not even the first time she’s attempted to wear a balloon as clothing, for what it’s worth. I wasn’t at the birthday party where Kina obtained said balloon—home recovering, as you might imagine—but it sounded like a total blast, and with the shine of New York Fashion Week still on the streets, Kina’s emergence from her friend’s birthday ball with painted face and balloon bet hit the scene like a ton of bricks.

As for me, I’m slowly healing up. Thanks to those of you who sent kind notes today. Will be making my way to a dentist so that I can get various teeth removed and evaluated tomorrow. In the meantime, Kina “still has [her] sea parent”, in her words, which comes as a great relief to all of us.

Hot gossip! I crashed my bike yesterday after work—Kina nowhere nearby, to be clear—and spent five hours in the ER getting my lip stitched and trying to account for my teeth. The publisher left me a sweet voice message on my phone after her (very recently terrified) mother assured her that she still had a father, and it left me feeling all sorts of complicated things about being a parent and a New Yorker and a bike commuter. She seems nonplussed by the whole affair, which has made it easier for me to work my way through this first day of recovery. As ever, she is a blessing and a beacon.

No broken bones, no concussion (as far as anyone can tell), a bit gnarly in the face in ways that will resolve themselves, and a little more gnarly in the teeth in ways that dentistry will help. I am still a father and the editor of this newspaper.

Remake streets for people. Watch your step. Wear a helmet.

It is hard for me to explain how this fundraiser works, but the kids are super passionate about it, and I can tell you for sure that quarters are bad.

dad

Shorter days, darker mornings. 6:45 is still 6:45.

dad

Kina spent like fifteen minutes carefully drawing and coloring this enormous portrait of herself to correct my portrait style, so I just made an edition out of it. She later scolded me for disregarding it as a guide for my subsequent illustrations.

dad

I remember telling Laurea, when Kina was very small and demanded we never leave her alone in her room, that eventually she would absolutely insist on being left alone in her room and make a real point of slamming the door to separate herself from us when she was feeling extra spicy about our parenting skills. We figured, like naive first-time parents, that we had at least until middle school before the first door was slammed in our house, but reader, we were wrong.

The teens come at you quickly. Sometimes in just five years.

dad

Georgia and Kina demanded a play date literally at the beginning of kindergarten, and they finally got it. We had to convince them to go home separately by promising not to wait another year.

dad

For her Uncle Ken’s birthday last night, Kina busted out her finest polyester princess dress and two pristine white satin evening gloves. We were meeting the birthday boy at a restaurant mainly known for its local take on the Bloomin’ Onion, baked pasta, and a chicken fried steak the size of a pizza, which would not seem to be the sort of venue at which white gloves are de rigeur, but they went over quite nicely with the staff nonetheless.

It bears noting that Kina did not eat with the gloves on, because that would be rude, but she did don them after dessert for a stroll down Vanderbilt Avenue, where she waved regally to the outdoor diners and bicyclists. We did eventually cross paths with another pink-gowned princess heading the opposite direction, and these two scions of nobility nodded at each other in passing, satin on satin in the dusk.

It was about a month ago that I proposed a theory of Kina’s late-night awakenings. If she had watched a particularly creepy movie (like Spirited Away, in this case) during the day—even if she had seemingly enjoyed every moment of it—Kina would wake up in terror the subsequent night.

Today, Kina confirmed that theory, cementing her inheritance from Laurea of good-scary-bad-scary vibes—the kind that has you selecting the “okay for monsters to touch me” headbands at the haunted house on Halloween and then screaming for help at every jump scare. It must be thrilling, but I can do without the nightmares.

dad

Yes, it’s creepy, but isn’t it sweet?

dad

I feel like this is true for me as well, but hour by hour.

dad

Sometimes—just sometimes—she is also agreeing with me.

dad

Ha ha just kidding the news is like a firehose of childhood factoids, even without the classroom goss.

dad

I don’t think I have ever seen a human being enter a medieval art museum with the same intensity as they might a laser tag arena, but this is Kina we are talking about, after all, and she was dressed as a princess, which maybe explains the vibe.

dad

Last year’s school family meetup was a little different from this year’s, in that Kina now knows more or less everybody milling around in McCarren Park—including her friend Runa from kindergarten and a little Venn diagram of past classrooms and music teachers. Funnily enough, Kina spent the whole day at last year’s family meetup with Runa, having only just met her; back then, the two of them decamped with uncommon ease to a random piece of playground equipment, forgetting their parents entirely.

This year, they decamped again with ease (now common) and strolled around the entire park together on secret adventures involving purses and popcorn. School has begun.

You haven’t lived until your first grader has come home to introduce you to this new game she invented called Truth or Dare, which means you either have to spout a fact or do a dare—neither of which is super consequential in her version of things. It’s just a fun choice.

dad

Kina has been asking me to make little paper first-place ribbons to give to friends and new teachers. She colors them in with crayon and draws a little “1” on each of them. She places them in the pockets of her backpack for when she needs to recognize the most important people in her life. I have never received such a ribbon.

One day, maybe.

dad