When I Grow Up

The theme of the week at Playette's school is to learn about different careers. You know, start exploring the whole "What do I want to be when I grow up?" thing.

I'm still trying to figure that out for myself, but ok.

Yesterday, before we realized this new theme, we found a band-aid on Playette's arm. I check the notebook. Hmm. No comment about her getting hurt.

Just when I was about to call the teacher and ask what happened, BD noted what they did that day. It was on the weekly calendar that I had missed. They were doctors and bandaged each other.

Subsequently, we found two more band-aids.

Today was hairdresser day. They asked for the kids to come with spikes or mohawks or pigtails and then they'd be sprayed with washable color at school.

Um. No.

Playette's aversion to getting her hair washed is unparalleled. We have tried everything we can think of. It is painful for all involved. She acts like she is getting tortured.

So, considering the fact that she just got her hair washed, we opted out of the spray color.

Also, I had just cornrowed the majority of her hair. I wasn't taking that out.

Instead, she dressed the part.

I don't want to give her a complex regarding wanting long, blond hair or anything, but...I couldn't resist.