Today she is out in the backyard in a bright green fairy outfit with little wings that are kind of on her back and sort of on one butt cheek. Her hair is done up in double pony tails however their placement seems to have taken into consideration the displacement of the wings and is offsetting those so to keep her balanced. I have a feeling that the little red haired girl completely understands and pursues balance as an integral part of her daily routine.
Oh, and she is wearing bright yellow mud boots.
It is about 30° C today.
This is just the way a little red haired fairy rolls.
She is skipping and laughing, and talking to someone. I can’t see the person because well … I am neither a child, nor a fairy … but she alters between wagging her finger and instructing, to laughing and slapping her thighs as she leans forward and makes funny faces. Every once in awhile she falls over into the grass and starts to roll, gets carried away, and rolls and rolls until there is a little dust cloud as the grass is still recovering from the long winter. She gets up, dusts off her dress, adjusts her wings, checks that her pony’s are still there, and continues on.
I miss those days when your best friend was really there for you and understood you like no-one else in your whole life ever would. I loved imaginary friends. I wanted to be one once upon a time …. but it didn’t work so well on account of people could actually see me ….and even when I asked them to close their eyes, it just was not the same. Imaginary friends are completely magical and I was only magical some of the time and besides . . . I couldn’t fly.
Now she is twirling, her hands are stretched out and her head is tilted upwards towards the sky. I swear a light beam has broken through the clouds and angels kiss her little face. If they aren’t, they should be. She is looking up at the sky and she is spinning around faster and faster … suddenly she stops and tries to walk forward, falls, gets up tries again, falls again, both wings now on her butt and she is laughing. Up she gets again, fighting with her wings, grabbing two handfuls of her fairy dress on either side of her hips as she hoists up her panties (because not all panties are aerodynamically designed to withstand twirling) and then stretching out both arms and twirling twirling twirling again …..
She is laughing hysterically. Oh to be so young where twirling and laughing at the best drugs ever. I can’t even turn around quickly in my office, for fear of knocking over something important.
Her mother yells from the back door that she should not do that anymore and reminds her that the last time she twirled around like that, she made herself sick. The little red headed girl stumbles around, as her mother scolds her. I can tell some of the joy is going and the angels have taken the sunbeam and gone home. Yelling mothers seem to have that effect on all kinds of activities. She slows, making a good effort to force the laughter, until she is sucked dry. Finally she turns and addresses her mother the big party pooper with a tone that most likely foreshadowed how incredibly difficult the coming teenage years were going to be. She is standing there, her hand on her hips, chin jutted out and insists, “I want to! It is fun!”
“No darling you will be sick.”
“No I won’t!”
“Yes you will darling, come on, play something else .. here is your doll carriage,” her mother shakes it at her hoping to distract her. The doll with the empty stare falls over on its side in the seat.
The little red headed girl stamps her foot, making it clear why all fairies should wear rubber boots. Nothing impacts like a stomped yellow rubber encased foot or a little red haired girl. She pointedly crosses her arms, one, and then the other and stares at her mother, her lips pressed together in a decided frown.
Her mother shakes the carriage again, this time insisting … “Come on.”
The little red headed girl stomps her way to the patio and grabs the carriage from her mother’s hand. She is clear in her body language … “I am complying … but I am NOT happy.”
She takes the carriage and drives it around the side of the house where there is only one window, frosted and high up . She abandons the carriage in the bushes, stands beneath the window and begins to twirl again. Over and over she twirls and attempts to walk and giggles and falls over.
And then ….
… she threw up.
As her mother led her into the house with one hand, and pulled the doll carriage with the other, the little red headed girl wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and then waved goodbye to her imaginary friend. There was a little self satisfied smile as her mother dragged her into the house. I saw one little boot appear out the sliding door to give the doll carriage a dismissive kick before the sliding door slammed shut. Her doll just sat and stared. Her imaginary friend stood, face pressed against the closed sliding door …..
Don’t forget the important lessons learned today:
There is a reason that fairies are seldom depicted as twirling in all those fairy tale stories; someone has to stay sober enough to help us make it home.
Imaginary friends are the absolute best friends we will ever have and understand us in ways that staring dolls just never can.
Mothers always ruin the best of fun and they are always annoyingly right.
Most important, some times it is worth it to disobey … even if it makes you throw up.
OTHERS IN THE SERIES