Wednesday, December 20 1995:
We go shopping at the bookstore. Drew gets lost. I find her a few minutes later, surprisingly calm—plain calm, in fact—sitting on a merchandise display. “I went to where you could see me,” says the little sage.
The kids watch the ’39 Hunchback. Sarah likes Quasimodo, or Foto, as she calls him. She goes around, intoning plummily. “Sanctuary! Sanctuary…”