High School

As we were getting ready for school this morning, Strip asked if she could borrow a brush. I fished out Hubs' sassy aveda paddle brush, handed it to her and watched her bounce off to her bathroom. A few minutes later, she appeared in the doorway, brushed her hair off her shoulder and exclaimed:

Strip: I look like a high schooler. Recept a little shorter

Me: Umm. Ok. What's high school?

Strip: You know. Where everyone makes music together and learns about caring.

Oh, honey, if ONLY that were the case. I think I'll let her keep the magic of Disney and the magic of high school for a little while longer. I just hope she doesn't think they all bust out with musical numbers and jazz hands there, too!