India has a comfort blanket, a frayed old navy sweater she calls Nigh Nigh that she likes to sleep with. Why does she call it “he”? And how old was she when she decided it was a boy? In fact, I would love nothing more than to conduct a sort of literary salon in which all my beloved friends bring their comfort blankets from childhood to the table and we discuss the gender identities of all of them. I would, believe it or not, find that completely compelling.
One of my favorite parts
