Adventures in Princess-Sitting

Earlier this evening we babysat our friends' two daughters. One of them, just four years old, was in heaven because Marley was allowing full access to all toys. Free to root around the toy rubble in Marley's room and the living room, she came across the birthday tiara.

"Eet's a crown!" she said in her high-pitched, Angelina Ballerina voice. "I need a princess dress! Where's a princess dress?!"

"I don't know, honey. There somewhere in Marley's room." I was helping big sister and Marley by being the banker for Princess Junior Monopoly and I didn't want to get up to find one of Marley's dress up costumes. 10 - 15 minutes pass. I've gone to the kitchen and am cutting up some chicken.

"I found it! Here it is! I found it!"

I looked down and sure enough, she has a Cinderella princess dress in one of her hands and the tiara in the other. She wants it on; she wants to put it on in Marley's room; she wants to take off her non-princess clothes first. (I usually just have kids throw on pretend clothes over their regular clothes.) All dressed up and ready to go, she trots around the house, being all princess-y. If you know this little wonder, you know this behavior comes naturally, as it once did with her older sister.

While all this is going on, the princess' sister and Marley have been asking for the hamster, Bobby, to be let loose in his ball. As Bobby zips around the living room, bumping into this and that, I hear, with every bump, in that same Angelina Ballerina voice:

"Be careful."

Bump.

"Don't do that."

Bump.

"Be careful."

Soon, the King and Queen appeared to take their princesses home. Marley, continuing her completely un-Marley-like fit of generosity, bestowed upon the little princess the Cinderella gown. Happy and content, the little princess walked with her parents to the car, holding up the skirt so that she didn't trip on its too-long length.

It was pretty darn cute, I have to tell you.