I stared into the bathroom mirror. Tall, bright red boots. Black wig. Lasso (supposedly of truth). Two W’s emblazoned across my chest. Honestly, I felt more like Self-conscious Sally than Wonder Woman. I’m used to dressing up as princesses for birthday parties, but today I’m up for a whole new challenge. I took a deep breath, walked out of the bathroom, down the hall, and into my destination. As I opened the door, I could feel at least 15 pairs of eyes on me. I may have been the superhero for the day, but even my “invincible” bracelets couldn’t protect me from the supersonic screams that arose. “Wonder Woman! My mommy says I’m a fighter, like you! Can I really be like you?” exclaimed a girl of no more than 6 years old as she wrapped her
