How to eff with your day care center

I genuinely love Hazel's day care center. I love the way it looks (very vintage!), the way it smells (home cooking), the way the other kids wave at me when I arrive to pick up my little Butterbean. I love the way I have no actual need to know anyone's name there. There is no, "Jimbob dropped Hazel on her head" or "Spammy was wearing too much perfume today", there's no need. They are all awesome.

That being said, they are sorta straight laced. I mean, we are YEARS ahead of The Unschool for Anarchists' Children... I believe this is as good as it gets until then.

Well, since they are a little square and a little old fashioned... (I mean, they are happy when I dress HJ like a doll and insist on sending her home with some other little girl's jacket when I send her with a skully Paul Frank hoodie. They praise her mary janes and scowl at her black Converse) I like to mess with them a little.

My latest way to punk them is to repeatedly send this t-shirt to school with her when they ask for extra clothing.
And every time, they send it back home with her that afternoon. The more I send it, the more flipping amused I am when it comes back. I don't plan on stopping any time soon. In fact, I'm looking for new, more offending, t-shirts all the time...