pigtails & popsicles

4:23 PM


I still remember being in preschool and picking up a paint brush for the first time. 
I pushed down hard wanting to fill the page with my water colors.
"this is Polly Paintbrush and you just messed up her hair." 
What if I liked messing up her hair

Schools are killing creativity before we can even pronounce it

Fast forward a few months to when we took off our shirts and painted tick-tack-toe on our bellies. 
Baby fat still there but we were more concerned about what the white crayon was good for and why the leaves change colors every year. 
Still concerned about our "lost" bunny who we hadn't seen for weeks. 
The posters didn't even help.

But at that age you will believe anything anyone tells you.

But one long day we grew up and learned all the answers and grew a little bitter along the way

We left the Polly Paintbrushes and the dress ups on the floor 
beneath the glow-in-the-dark stars 
scattered across our ceilings.
the blues clues episodes, the rainbow fish book, and our best friend Junie B. Jones.
Sometimes she was the only one that understood.
I remember the show Arthur teaching me how to tie my shoes and crying because it didn't make sense.
I still cry when things don't make sense.

Eventually we traded in our plastic crowns for ones that are even cheaper.
maybe it's because our feet didn't fit in the Cinderella shoes anymore so we figured our dreams were overrated.

But I'm picking up my Polly Paintbrush and putting my hair in pigtails so I can prove to you that they're not.

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