Princess Brittany

Boy did we have one crazy weekend.

First, we were piling into the mini on Saturday for a trip to the movie store when I was calmly informed by my daughter that a seven foot, ninety pound fairy with giant, fragile wings was lurking right behind me.

"Mom," Ayla said. "You need to get out of the way so Mariposa can get in."

I obliged, because that's what one does when being stalked by a giant, invisible, agitated member of the fae.

I did, however, risk an eternity of compulsory underground dancing and reveling subject to the whim of the Fairy King by telling Mariposa to put on her seat belt.

"She can't," Ayla told me. "It will break her wings."

Mariposa: 2. Mommy:0.

Things with Mariposa went downhill quickly when we learned what a knack she has for narrowing in on one's insecurities. "Mariposa doesn't like Daddy," Ayla informed us. "She doesn't like his hair."

Then she said, "Mariposa thinks mommy is a terrible writer and even Stephanie Meyer has better skills than mommy AND Mariposa thinks mommy could stand to lose ten pounds and her homemade cookies suck."

(Just kidding about that second part).

We pulled into the left turn lane, a motorcycle roared by, and wouldn't you know: that hoity-toity Mariposa saw fit to vanish herself right out the window.

"Brittany," Ayla said, in the superior tone of those who can see the fae, and know their ways, and are immune to their enchantments, "You have to call Mariposa back or she won't come. The noise scared shes and you have to call shes back." (Aside: Ayla still occasionally switches 'her' and 'she'). (And yes, she called me 'Brittany').

I leaned my head out the window and summoned the blue-winged witch back. She came to my beck and call.

Mariposa: 2. Mommy:1

We went into Blockbuster and Mariposa flew to perch herself atop the giant orange building across the street. (Like cats, the fae enjoy looking down on humans). She came back when we were ready to drive home without much fuss. Until daddy dared to ask:

"What do Ayla and Mariposa want for lunch?"

Utterly sure of herself, Ayla answered: "Mariposa doesn't eat anything at all."

Mariposa: 500,000,000,000,002. Mommy:1

Mariposa left after nap and even though she can fly and doesn't eat anything, I wasn't too happy to see her go. You never knew what she was gonna do next.

Without the company of the fairy, and thus without the fear of the Will-o'-the-wisp, we set out to the park. Not the Orange park, or the Joker park, but the Blue park. Where I learned this: Turns out all a mommy has to do to get a little respect is don a princess crown.

For the next hour, I was Princess, daddy was Prince/Monster, Ayla was Mariposa, and Indy was Dragon Slayer. Apparently Ayla's main impression of Princesses is that they can't do a damn thing themselves. She spoke gently to me. Calmly she would take "Princess's" hand and say "C'mon, Princess, you have to hide over here now", or "This way, Princess, hurry up now, so the monster won't get you." Monster Prince chased us around the monkey bars. Indy was terrified and clung to me until I thought to arm her with a sword.

She knew exactly what to do.

Promptly, she whipped Monster Prince across the back.

Later, at dinner, Ayla told Princess to tell Prince to fetch Us Our royal mangoes.

I told Prince that We do not hold to insubordination and that a disobedient Prince should not be suffered to live.

Ayla said, if Prince does it, we won't kill him. But if he says no, we will.

Prince fetched Our mangoes.

Then Princess decided We shall have dancing, but Ayla could not be obliged. So Princess herself gave a demonstration.

"That wasn't very beautiful dancing," sniffed her royal heinous Mariposa-Ayla.

And that was the end of that.