Our oldest granddaughter, who is 4½, or “close to 5” as she says, lives in an apartment building in a diverse pocket of Chicago within walking distance of Target, a thrift store, the lakeshore, subsidized housing projects to the north and grand manses of the early 1900s a few blocks south.
This little girl who lives in the city asked her daddy if princesses were real. “Sort of,” he replied. To which she responded, “Do they live way out in the suburbs?”
Where daddy was vague, Grandma would like to be specific.