I spent a summer working as a caregiver in the three-year-old room at a daycare center. One of the girls was a super girlie girl with long ringlets down past her shoulders, who dressed in head-to-toe Disney princess attire every day. One time, during story hour, she asked to sit in my lap. And as she ran her fingers through her impractical hair in a self-satisfied way, she looked up at me and my short, chic summer 'do and calmly asked, "Are you a boy or a girl?" I stifled my shock and answered, "I'm a girl." To which she replied, "Are you waiting for your long hair to come? My mommy says that if I'm patient enough, my long hair will come." No, kid, I just have no desire to look like Princess Jasmine. But, thanks.