Daniel pulls into My LittleWooden Shoe’s parking lot and sees her car, already in its customary spot, directly facing the playground, with its redwood climbing structures, sandbox, and swings.He is so glad to know that she’s here that he laughs.

“What’s so funny?”Ruby asks, as he unsnaps her from her car seat, lifts her up.Her questions are blunt;he guesses one day she’ll be a tough customer.

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you laughing?”She smiles.Her milk teeth are tinged brown:as a baby she was sometimes allowed to fall asleep with a bottle of juice in her crib and the sugar wore away her enamel.Now the dentist says the best thing to do is just let them fall out.Yet the brown, lusterless teeth—along with her slight stoutness, and her ruddy complexion— make her look poor and rural, like a child in the background ofa Brueghel painting.

“Just crazy thoughts,”Daniel says.“How about you?Any crazy thoughts lately?”

“I want to go to Nelson’s house after day care.”

“That’s not a very crazy thought.”

She thinks about this for a moment.“I want to sleep over.”

“You never know,”Daniel says.He swoops her up into his arms, turns her upside down.She clutches her knapsack, afraid that her snack and box ofjuice will slip out.Daniel restrains himself from suggesting to Ruby:Ask him, ask Nelson if you can spend the night.

Today, Iris is wearing plaid cotton pants that are a little too short for her and a bulky green sweater that is a little too large.Her clothes are rarely beautiful,