Cinderelly

I had lunch the other day with a group of dear ladies.  There was a brief discussion about third children and how they don't fit a mold.  Our third child would be Marie, and she certainly doesn't fit any mold that I know of.

But she does follow suit when it comes to drawing and coloring.  We consume a massive amount of paper in this house.  Marie refuses to draw or color while sitting, however - apparently she doesn't have the time to do that.  Throughout the past few weeks, her daily drawings have centered on a certain curious theme:

Cinderelly and the Prince?  (That's what Auntie Sherry wrote in her thank you for one such drawing.)

This makes Marie laugh and laugh.  "Silly Auntie Sher!  Of course it's me and Daddy!"

Oh, of course.  Marie and Daddy.  Getting married.  Hence the crowns.  "That's what people wear when they get married."

This begs a question.  (At least in my mind.)  "Where am I, honey?"

"Oh, you're little.  You sleep in my bed."

"Oh, so it's like we switched places?"

"Yup!  You're right, Mom!"

I make it into one drawing, the detailed one with tables and candles around the perimeter.  I am little, but Marie reassures me that I'm wearing a fancy dress.

"Oh, how nice!  Am I the flower girl?"

"Nope."

"No?  What I am doing then?"

"Hanging."

"Hanging?"

"Yup.  That's why there's a string on the top of your head.  You're just hanging from that string in the corner."

Yikes.
Let's not let a child psychologist get a hold of this one.