Molly, standing on the kitchen counter, eyes down, arms up, very concentrated look on her face, softly repeating: I believe I can fly, I believe I can fly, I believe I can fly.
Porter: Mom, there's a girl in my class who wants the boys to call her hot. And it's not what you think. It's not like when you stand too close to the fire.
I am thinking that I should appreciate preschool and its innocent charm just a little bit more often.