Dear stranger, why do you call me a boy?

Is is because of my goretex boots? You know, I like to walk in puddles and mud...

Is it because of that bruise on my forehead? You know, I just fell over while exploring...

Is it because of my coat? You know, this used to be my brother's coat...

Is is because I've been running up and down the church for an hour? You know, some girls are wild too...

Is it because of my short and tangled up hair? You know, I like to paint and bake and get incredibly messy...

Is it because my face is covered in mud? You know, I just kissed a mud puddle...

Is it because of my loud squealing? You know, I got excited about the bus passing by...

Is it because you would expect a clean face, framed in pink and glitter? You know, I like to dress up and play tea parties, but I don't want to be pretty and neat and quiet all the time...

So dear stranger, I ask you again, why do you call me a boy?

You know, I am a happy little girl... A wild one...