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.