Miss Morbid.

Anna has been a little obsessed death lately.  Weird, I know.  Very.  She likes to kill bugs and watch them twitch as they die, tells me that her cheese stick is "dead" when she smashes it and pushes it hard down onto her plate.  Today we had to take a shirt back to Old Navy.  Of course the girl had to potty as soon as we got inside.  So I drug her hopping, then hanging, then twirling body to the bathroom.  When we got there, there was someone in there already.  She asked the usual, speaking WAY too loud for everyone to hear, questions about who and what that person was doing in there.  Then she looked up and asked, "What's that say on that sign?", pointing to the "Women" sign.  I told her what it said and then she asked, "What's that picture on there?"  I said that it was a picture of a girl.  She looked at me with a rather disturbing, content look and said, "It's a dead girl."