"Daddy, read me a story," she asked quite seriously.
I looked at her in amazement. "Since when? Go read your own story."
She lifted an eyebrow in imitation of my own characteristic gesture.
"Children of my age do not read," she instructed pedantically. "I can't learn to read until I am in the first grade. It is very hard to do and I am much too little."
She had found the answer to her affliction—conformity! She had already learned to conceal her intelligence. So many of us break our hearts before we learn that.
But you don't have to conceal it from me, Star! Not from me!
Oh, well, I could go along with the gag, if that was what she wanted.
"Did you like nursery school?" I asked the standard question.
"Oh, yes," she exclaimed enthusiastically. "It was fun."
"And what did you learn today, little girl?"