Apparently Emma inhaled a little too much farm air this past weekend. I’m used to her channeling Punky Brewster, but this morning there was a definite Laura Ingalls vibe.
I let her dress herself for school everyday because:
1) I really don’t care.
2) It’s just easier.
3) She’ll have to wear uniforms next year anyway.
This morning she picked out what is technically a dress-up dress my mother got for the girls at a consignment shop, but in reality, it’s a dress some little girl was probably proud to rock out in 1987.
Emma requested two braids in her hair and I did the best I could, she doesn’t really have enough hair to braid yet…