Sayonara, Mr. Trouble Clef

Among the many things which young beginning piano students find compelling are quite a few that to me have become fairly mundane realities.  Among them are:
(a).  The promise of one day being able to play "that song that goes DAHdeedahdeeDAHdeedahdahDUM".  God help us all.
(b).  The spinning office chair.  I should really get rid of that.
And (c).  The treble clef, that perpetually profitable icon of those companies who produce the diabolically tacky gift items designed especially for music teachers.

I cannot overstate how much young kids love drawing treble clefs, and what an effective bribe it is to have sparkle markers set aside for that very activity if and ONLY if a stellar job of practicing has been done this week.  This week though the understated nonchalance of Mr. Bass-ically Nice Clef finally caught the eye of one of my more precocious six year olds.  Ah, how precipitously he stole her heart, and how callous her abandonment of  the tall, handsome and hopelessly convoluted Mr. Trouble Clef.  I'm pretty sure no-one had ever dumped him before, actually. 

"Ms. Alison!" she cried, rapturously.  "It's just like drawing half of a heart!  Or a butterfly wing!"

Clearly this kid has the design sense to make a fortune.