My older daughter had gone off to play with the neighbor girl and the toddler was playing with Barbie dolls in her room, but was a little disappointed that she couldn't go with the bigger kids. She asked me to play with her.
"You can be the little princess, Daddy," she said, handing me her Sleeping Beauty doll.
"I don't want to be the little princess," I answered, more teasing than actually declining; as the father of two small girls, I am expected to dress baby dolls, play with princesses and ponies, get my hair brushed and occasionally, wear a tiara.
Drag queens and fathers of toddler girls - the only men who can pull off wearing a tiara.
"I don't want to be the little princess," I continued, and it was then that I spotted her dinosaur on the floor nearby, "I want to be the dinosaur," I picked up the large plastic tyrannosaurus, "and the dinosaur is going to eat this princess."
The three-year old sighed, "No, he not hungry."
"He's going to eat this princess," I said, making chomping noises and moving the dinosaur to get a good bite of the princess sprawled on the floor. As I turned him over, though, another princess fell out of the mouth of hollow, plastic rex.
"He not hungry," she repeated, not looking up, "he already eated."
While trying not to laugh out loud, I shook the dinosaur, there was something else in there. I turned rex upside down again, and a long piece of green plastic fell out.
"That his toothbrush. Toothbrushes are good for getting out princesses."
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment