da do run run

Today at the grocery store, Julia wanted a magazine.

Real bad.

She was clutching it to her chest, eyes closed.

It wasn't actually Tiger Beat, but something much like it.

(Bay City Rollers?)

I said okay.

Well, she's been so absorbed in that thing ALL DAY. She's trying very hard to read anything she can decipher, showing Lydia the pictures, asking her to read captions.

this picture was taken with the flash and i turned it right off again. nothing about flash feels right for their old, pink, grandma bedroom upstairs.

She wanted ME to look at it.

I know very little about any of this. Justin Bieber? Yes, I know who he is, and I love him because you girls do. Selena Gomez? I don't know her from Selma Hayek. Okay? They're both fairly gorgeous, but it's fine regardless.

Julia knows.

As I was looking at the magazine and she was pointing out things to me about Taylor Swift, I realized there was a poster tucked in the middle.

that's her, magazine on the floor.

I carefully tore it away from the staples, and it wasn't ONE poster. It was THREE.

She was beyond delighted, smoothed them all flat on my bed, turned on the ceiling light so she could look at them clearly.

Now they're taped on the ceiling in their room upstairs, and the two of them are so funny--I went up there to see the new posters, but the Barbie houses are distractingly cool.




Barbie has posters of Justin Bieber.

Yes. The icon Barbie herself bows before the Bieber.

God love kids. They're crazy, and they're awesome. love, Val