Oh, life is strange. Who knew that my daughter would mistake the little red dachshunds on her flannel PJs for SCORPIONS ... and then violently disagree with me when I said, "wow, those are cute doggies on your PJs, honey"?
Also, who knew she would ask for a Darth Vader-themed birthday (her 3rd), especially since it was a joint celebration with her best friend from preschool who wanted Ariel, the Little Mermaid? The decorations looked festive, yet with that uniquely psychotic touch. She was dressed as Darth Vader for Halloween, 1 foot shorter than her brother who was also DV. For Christmas, she has requested a "Darth Vader doll" although I'm not sure what this actually means to her. Today she said she was going to ask Santa for a rocket that she could shoot off indoors. She does play a lot with cars, trucks, and such. She hugs her dolls a lot but also inflicts head injuries upon them, and callously tosses them aside to let their wounds coagulate.
All this is to say: I'm scared of her becoming a teenager.
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