I have a nearly 3 year old daughter. She is a tomboy. I love that she is a tomboy. It makes it easier for me, the original tomboy.

Sometimes, though, she dumbfounds me. She runs upstairs, all on her own, and navigates the difficult tasks of putting on tights and a fairy dress — all on her own. Without any whining. Then she prances down the stairs and demands to be called ‘Princess’.

She would love one of these felt crowns. Or two. One superhero crown, for the tomboy days and one princess crown, for well, the princess days.