My daughter, future cutter

From my conversation with Boo during a hike today. She’d earlier gotten a scratch on her foot.


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    Cellphone cap of the <br />window to the soul.

“Sometimes I like boo-boos and sometimes I don’t like boo-boos. I like boo-boos because I like the blood. The blood washes the boo-boo out. I want to get a boo-boo.”

Tonight, she picked her nose until it bled — just a little, thank god for small favors — and only on threat of no-Scooby-Doo-for-life would she stop tasting her own blood.

This job makes me feel clueless and fascinated, often at the same time.