[VoraciousReader]

When I was 6 years old I wanted more than anything in the world to be an Indian Princess. This meant that every Thursday night for a year, my dad sat down on the floor with me and made jewelry with a bunch of other little girls and their long-suffering fathers. He even helped chaperone our camping trip. I painted his face, stuck feathers in his hair, and by and large made him look completely ridiculous, and insisted on being called Pocahontas. He endured it all.