From the day
Perspective: The Teenager · Tactile
I’m itching to ditch this stiff wool sweater for a sleek silk slip, looking like a total sheba while I hunt for my missing Raggedy Andy. My fingers trace the rough yarn hair of the doll just as Ma starts squawking about the cost of living, acting like dropping **$0.11** on a single loaf of bread is some kind of national tragedy. I just crank the gramophone to drown her out with "The Sheik of Araby," feeling the cool steel of the needle as it hits the groove. Ain’t we got fun?