My day began quite early this morning with the frustrated grunts of my three year old. She SEEMED to be playing nicely by herself upstairs in her bedroom (Legos?) – no need to check on her. I could just relax in bed and enjoy the last few minutes of darkness before the sun brightened up my world. The grunts turned into whining. And then into sobbing.
“MOMMMMMYYYYY!!!” she cried and I jumped out of bed. All sorts of horrific scenes raced through my mind.
She met me at her doorway, tears dripping down her cheeks, “They don’t work, Mommy. None of the glow sticks work and the wings won’t stick to Barbie’s back!” She grabbed my hand and led to her bed, “Look. See, Mommy? I wanted to make all the Barbies into fairies and give them magic wands. Just like Tinkerbell.” She picked up a “glow stick” to show me, “See, Mommy? I tried breaking all of them but none of them will work! NO FAIR!!”
Piled neatly in the corner of her bed, were 36 tampons, all broken in half. And in a pile next to those, were pads, the tapes torn off and they were now stuck to her princess blanket. Two dozen Barbies were posed neatly in a row, and I must have had one perplexed look, because my daughter went on to explain that they were earning their wings and wands, “You know Mommy, like in Harry Potter.”
My six year old woke up when I burst out laughing, “What are those things anyway, Mommy?” she asked. Thankfully, Bob saved me. I wasn’t awake enough yet to go dig out that anatomy book they spent an inordinate amount of time giggling over the other day.
“Speaking of wands,” Randi said after I told her my little adventure, “I think I may have waved mine and found something you’ll be very interested in not far from Surfside.” She just wanted to swing by it later this morning after she went dress shopping. Mike, her “friend” (ahem Randi), is taking her to a wine tasting fund-raiser this weekend and she just has to get a purple dress. “I have nothing new in purple and this is the perfect opportunity to get something.” Her wardrobe is three times as large as mine, and I really can’t complain about mine at all. Thank God we’re the same size.
And now, having been properly “serviced” by Bob the coffeemaker, I am ready to tackle cleaning up all the broken “wands and wings”. And then I will check the calendar – to make sure no one will be needing them until my next shopping trip….