Today's Prompt: Incorporate the phrase “stop looking at me like that” into your post. I agreed to let our 12 year old be a Goth Cheerleader for Halloween. This was the first year that Lily didn't want to be something sweet, like a Princess or a Unicorn or a Cowgirl, so I put away the "glitter kit" and changed it up to red lips and black eyeliner. (A part of me wanted it to look as good as possible but then, my other thought was, what if it looked too good, and she wanted to keep the Gothy-ness of it all every day. I'm barely OK with lipgloss! There's no telling how I would handle eyeliner!) I will never forget seeing my 12 year old daughter in her Halloween make-up. My precious, little, blond haired, blue-eyed, round-faced Lily all of a sudden had cheek bones. Her eyes were no longer sleepy looking, they were questioning, knowing, and a bit sarcastic. She kept putting her hands on her hips, raising her eyebrows and saying, "Sto