Why My Daughter, Ellie, Is Not Living Up to Her Potential as a Reader

Because both my wife and I are writers. Because when I’m thinking about a story, Ellie says I’m hard to reach. Because when my wife is on deadline, I’m the one who does the cooking, and it always turns out burnt. Because Ellie would prefer takeout. Because she says we look down on graphic novels, even though my wife and I absolutely admire creative ingenuity, but we still prefer a story well told, and Ellie says that kind of line is proof that we just don’t get it. Because we tell her books are windows into whole new worlds and she scoffs and rolls her owl eyes and mutters under her minty breath, which I’ve just started to notice is minty because Ellie’s using mouthwash more and more after she goes to the bathroom and sometimes, I find sick when I do the cleaning. Because Ellie’s always been too thin. And because, when I bring it up, my wife, Rachel, turns as white as the page and asks me when did I first notice and I say maybe a few weeks and Rachel says we’re terrible parents, and we agree we need to talk to Ellie, and we plan to do it together just as soon as Rachel files her latest article, because there’s no way I’m doing it on my own and because I just thought of a new ending to the story that’s been tormenting me for weeks and I need to get it down before the words leave me.