Michael Jackson...
is still a part of our dinner conversation. At some point this summer, Mariel picked up on the whole Michael Jackson craze after his death.  My best guess is that she overheard it on the radio as we drove around NY/ New England, and then heard people talking about it.  And of course, this summer was high Peter Pan fan time, so once she heard that Michael lived at Neverland Ranch, well, she was hooked.  So she would do things like wake up and play in her room and tell Patrick and I that she was playing with Peter Pan and Michael.  "Michael?" We would ask.  "Michael Jackson," she would say, smiling.
So today, at dinner, she asks me: "Mom, is Michael sad or dead?"   "WHAT?"  I reply.  "Michael Jackson.  Is he sad or dead?"  (I avoid answering the question, because the real answer is both and that seems like it would get complicated).  "Why are you thinking about him, Mariel?"  She shrugs.  From what I can gather, there was no reason or conversation that drew her attention to Michael.  She just was thinking about him.  I wonder if she thinks about him often?  Bizarre.  Another indication that I have NO idea what is going on in her head.