Elsa is getting by solely on her looks these days. Seriously, these pigtails are all that’s standing between her and an orphanage* sometimes. Like when she’s opening the fridge for the 30th time in 10 minutes. Or when she’s climbing in our bed for the 3rd time in one night. Or when she’s trading food with me at the the breakfast/lunch/dinner table without even asking.
But really, how mad can you get at these pigtails? You can’t. You just can’t.
*Kidding. Totally kidding . . . for now.