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Move Over Hollywood

I have a friend whose wife I used to call Hollywood… Until today. Decked out in the babysitter’s wacky-wild hair creations, with her brother’s sunglasses, dressed head to toe in pink, and cruising the highways and biways of our town’s sidewalks in her brother’s “wheels”, my little girl has somehow transformed into this new creature. She even learned a dance that literally shocked me into telling her, at three years old, that I’d better never see her doing again. And she learned it from a cartoon of all places! That’s it. No more Cartoon Network at Nana’s house.

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