Even though this happened about a month ago, I had to write this down, for posterity's sake. Posterity will thank me some day.
So, Hallie has a truly fabulous Cinderella dress--this is no over-glitzed, dime-a-dozen Disney frock, but a one-of-a-kind creation handmade by her very own Nana for Halloween. As an aside, because Nana made it and doesn't want to ever repeat the process, the dress has a great many tucks and seam allowances, so that we can just let it out as Hallie grows...so many, in fact, that she just might end up wearing it to prom someday. As a minidress.
Anyway. The dress is so fabulous, and so beloved, that Hallie asks to wear it every day.
Every. Single. Day.
Consequently, Cinderella sightings have increased dramatically in my neighborhood, the grocery store, the drug store...you get the idea.
So one day the dog desperately needed a walk, and I simply did not have the emotional fortitude to extract the Hallie buried inside the Cinderella, so Cinderella came, too. Things went pretty well (although my Cinderella has an inexplicable desire to stop every few feet and build "fire pits" out of pine needles...which I do not remember at all from the movie), until we ran across a gaggle of tween girls. Two of them instantly cooed over the fabulosity that walked with me, and one could not be bothered. Hallie, as is her wont, struck up a conversation with the girls, one she was quite willing to extend indefinitely, and one the gaggle quickly became bored with. As I gently chivvied her along, trying to spare the girls (and let the poor dog do his business), Hallie turned back one last time and called out, "See ya later, alligator!" Dutifully, one girl responded with the required, "After 'while, crocodile!" Things suddenly went south.
Hallie rounded on her assailant, filled with an indignant fury that threatened to burst seams and tucks, and placed her hands firmly on her hips. Glaring with righteous fervor, she shouted, "I'm not a crocodile! Can't you see the dress? I'm CINDERELLA!!!"
The bewildered girls gaped at her as I dragged Hallie away, quivering with barely-suppressed guffaws while trying to explain the socially-accepted rote exchange that had just taken place. Hallie glanced coldly over her shoulder at me, muttering, "Well, I don't like that at all," picked up her skirts, and stomped off toward home in high princess-like dudgeon.
I haven't come across those girls since.
No comments:
Post a Comment