Just two days ago in an online poll asking for one word to describe me, Liz said I was "cool." She's what my sister calls "a young thirteen" in that she's perhaps a smidge behind other teenagers her age in a few things.
Today in carpool, a really good Prince song came on the radio. Of course I turned it way up, sang along and danced in my seat while driving as per usual. I was most of the way through the song when I noticed fiery-hot laser beams shooting out of Liz's eyesockets, burning holes clean through me and into the seat. Oh yeah. I was definitely getting the look. Not so cool now, am I?