This chick kills me. The outfits she comes up with. I gave up trying to suggest clothing ensembles (matching is over-rated) and hairstyles (she can do her own ponytails, thanks).
Her non-conformity both inspires and frustrates me.
Everytime she comes downstairs "ready for preschool, mom!" with a little funk in her trunk, so to speak, I just have to smile and tell her "I love your outfit." This gives her joy.
I imagine what a strong/independent woman she will become. This gives me great joy.
Behold, the spunkification of America: