I wanted a girl.
I got all girl. I got the kind of girl I used to poke fun at. I got the kind of girl I don't understand. I got a girl who loves all the things that make my eyes roll right on out of my head.
I got high-heeled shoes and bright pink polish.
I got sundresses and sass.
I got hearts in place of Os.
I got princesses and priss.
I got Barbies and babies.
I got tutus . . . and more tutus.
I got pink . . . so much pink.
I didn't get exactly what I envisioned, but in some ways I got so much more.
Karma has already paid me back for my tomboy ways. There's no need to take the torture further. If you haven't gotten your ticket for Crazy Scary yet, perhaps you'll do me a favor and make sure it's a ticket that will prevent death-by-girly-girl?
P.S. If you get a VIP ticket, you don't have to go through the haunt unless you want to. You'll be nice and safe and zombie-free upstairs. There will even be plenty of food and drink and prizes to keep you company.