A Typical Saturday Morning

I'm making pancakes and (turkey) bacon (hey, I'm at least making an attempt at good nutrition). I hear a lot of banging around upstairs, along with a number of orders being given by Princess E (who already fancies herself the Queen) to Princess G (her loyal subject).

They both come down the stairs in summer party dresses, princess high heels and backpacks stuffed full of toys. I, being the sensible and boring mom, say, "Isn't it too cold to wear summer dresses? There's eight inches of snow on the ground, after all." Princess E says in her exasperated, Mom-you-just-don't-get-it voice (I'm getting that a lot lately), "Mom, we're going to Hawaii."

"Why Hawaii?"

More exasperation. "Because that's where they keep the sun, Mom."

Can't argue with that logic. I abandon the pancakes and head upstairs to put on a summer party dress.

Sometimes fantasy really is so much better than reality.