I'm standing by a storage cabinet in between the bathroom and the kids' play kitchen, watching the activity in the classroom. Chloe sits at the table, drawing a picture with markers. "Miss Becky," she says, "why do you have a voice like a princess?" Nobody, I mean nobody, has ever described my voice as princess-like. "Do you think I have a voice like a princess?" I ask. "Yes," she says. "I do." all the while smiling, that perfect lisp and those gorgeous cheekbones. Meanwhile, a royal subject petitions the princess from the bathroom: "Miss Becky, will you wipe my bottom?" and there's Zach, pantless, assuming Downward Dog in front of the toilet. I love my job.