My girl. She has no business wearing dresses really. But she loves them, calls them her "pwetties!" And I feel like in some way, they tone down some of her more aggressive qualities. "Spirited," a friend called it. Yes, that's what I need to say when she climbs out of windows giggling as she stands precariously on narrow ledges (until Daddy runs in with heart at his feet and swoops her away), as she walks up to each and every child gathered outside to play and pushes them the way a linebacker would, just as a way of saying "hello."
A sun dress can make all that seem okay, can't it?
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