Ursula is fourteen. We were driving.
Dad I want a tattoo.
Why not? I’m old enough.
If you have to ask that question you’re not old enough.
Silence in the car.
If you did get one (I ask), what would it be?
(Melting): Ursula. That’s what we used to call you, sweetheart.
Yeah, I know. That’s what my name means.
Do people call you that?
Yeah, that’s what they call me.
(Wiping eyes): Really? I didn’t know they called you Little Bear. God, I loved reading that book to you.
Yeah. So dad, what what would you get?
If I got a tattoo?
(Thinking): I’d get Frog and Toad.