“Ah.” I nod, not quite understanding. “And that is a . . . bad thing?” “Yes, it’s a bad thing. Do you really think I want my daughter to be a struggling artist?” “Well, to be fair,” I say, “she does have you as a father, so would she really be struggling?” His eyes narrow, and I realize that maybe I don’t debate him on the welfare of his child but instead go along with whatever plan he has in mind. “Although.” I nervously laugh. “It would be a great life lesson to learn if she sees what kind of hardship it would be to be a struggling artist in a world of capitalism.” That lightens the scowl in
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