So my beautiful daughter (she's constantly telling me she's not really beautiful, it's just my opinion, and anyway I'm her mother--looks like the program we did on Facts v. Opinions took nicely. But she does in fact walk in beauty. No one has ever had such perfect skin or eyes) decided to get dressed for Halloween as, well, this thing. It just seems wrong to me on so many levels. Fortunately, the costume didn't come w/matching machete. And the battery-operated mask made her face sweaty, so she took it off in the gym as she was watching the Mad Science presentation the PTA put on. I sort of miss last year's costume, which was a Junior Ho version of Vampirella, complete with bodacious decolletage and some lace-up action in front. Her brother, thank God, was happy with her retrofitted 2002 costume, a nice green plush dinosaur.

She is so, so interesting, my child.

I watched her soccer game today, played on a field that was covered in goose shit. She was into the game, but the attention thing gets in the way, so she'd kind of be hustling downfield, and then she'd space out a little, and someone would have to yell, "Downfield, Primera!" and she'd sort of shake herself and run after the ball, looking like a commuter suddenly realizing the train was leaving the station. And then the play would end, and she'd skip back to her position, or stand still and look around a bit. Her coaches seem to realize that she's a sweet kid and have been patient with her.