I have a really creepy, but totally accidental, habit of dressing Rosalind like me. I don’t mean that I just generally buy her clothes that I would like, which I do. I mean that if I’m feeling dressy one day, my brain assumes she is as well. If I am sloppy, so is she. I have zero intention of this happening ever, yet morning after morning I look down at us and realize we look halfway ready for a mother/daughter pageant. This morning is evidence of my obvious psychological disorder. Not a moment of thought or planning went into this.