Parsing this photo is good fun.  Here’s my girl as Walt Disney — the historical figure she chose to research and portray for her school’s annual “Wax Museum” project. Stop by her station and tap the “button” at her feet and she’ll lower her sketch pad to give you a one minute recitation of Walt’s life and career.

You’ll notice she makes sure to mention that Walt’s first two businesses failed (not sure why that is reassuring to her), Mickey Mouse earns a mention, as do the theme parks, but no feature films make the cut. Which makes sense if you look at Disney through nine-year-old eyes.  Who the hell is Bambi?

There are no less than four Amelia Earharts in the Wax Museum, a handful of Queens of England, but only one girl in a fake mustache. That my daughter has chosen not to be a princess, but instead Walt himself actually makes me feel better about the Disney exposure we’ve tolerated (and even sponsored) over the years.

With all the hand wringing about princessification of American girls on one hand and their early maturation on the other this precious drag show has me bursting with paternal pride. And there’s nothing demure about her confident posture, direct delivery and eye contact either.

The wig may have seen better days, but I’d say that worries about our girlie-girl culture may be overblown.