Scarring Her For Life

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.

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Polka dot dresses? Check! Leggings? Check! Denim jackets? Check! Boots? Check!
I need an intervention.

One thought on “Scarring Her For Life

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