Drink your juice.

Bobby made us see A Separation tonight because it was Roger Ebert’s favorite movie of the year, which, fine. My main concern is that the tween actress hunched in that exaggerated way where you can’t tell if she’s just embarrassed of her boobs or if she has scoliosis, and I worry that no one on that set was like, “Hey, you’re eleven and have a spine like a parabola, let’s take you to a pediatrician and get this squared away between scenes.” Hope she’s just into The Cure and uncomfortable with her own puberty and that she doesn’t have too many textbooks in her backpack.