Ruling Wall Street In Pink Pajamas

Summary

In the Sutton dynasty, brilliance was treated as a hereditary condition. Every generation churned out ruthless private-equity sharks, political power brokers, and polished Ivy League wunderkinds.

Except for me. At four and a half years old, I was an unapologetic, world-class slacker.

While other kids in Manhattan were being drilled in Suzuki violin, Mandarin immersion, and competitive preschool admissions, I preferred staying wrapped in my cashmere blanket, clutching a warm bottle of strawberry milk, and sleeping until the midday sun hit the floorboards.