I can't help thinking that Shakespeare had intimate knowledge of children and their dramatic interpretations of people looking at them the wrong way, or of a sippy cup that's the wrong color, or of a peanut-butter sandwich that oh-so-mysteriously finds its way into the VCR (yes, we still have a VCR). As I'm writing this, my daughter is in agony about having to wear a warm blue dress to church instead of the flimsy red one that she wanted. That it's nearly freezing outside makes no difference to her - 'cause she's the lead actor in a greek tragedy about fripperies and frocks, and she's NOT going to let down her audience. And when she gets in character, she STAYS in character. Devotion to her craft: this girl has it.
