The kid likes leaving notes for people.
The kid likes Dig Dug, and wears a Tiny Arcade machine I got her on a lanyard.
The kid likes throwing one of my flannel shirts over me when she finds me napping on the sofa.
The kid likes sequins. And glue guns. And canvases to which she can apply the two.
The kid likes spooky stuff, and possibility of spotting a a real live(?) ghost.
The kid likes craft stores, with the same wide-eyed enthusiasm I used to approach a Toys R Us action figure aisle when I was a kid.
The kid likes my 60s freakbeat compilations, dancing to them before dinnertime and encouraging me to dance with her to the groovy beats.
The kid likes comics, reading them next to me on the sofa before breakfast and reading favorite stories aloud to Maura on long car rides.
The kid likes hugs, and looks for excuses to give them (though no excuse is required).
The kid likes Oliver the Rock Stupid Puppy, because someone has to.