One way to get inside Piper’s head is to observe her “art.” I do intend the air quotes, by the way. This is apparently what my partner and I do on romantic getaways:
First, I don’t wear snuggies in public. Geez. And the rainbow dress would never fit Piper’s dad. I’m certainly not taking somebody’s baby on my date. And why is there a decapitated moose head next to the poop? I probably shouldn’t ask. In fact, my questions just get in the way. To Piper, it just is. Her imagination is a frightening and wonderful place. As it should be.