About a month ago, LittleBird decided that she no longer wanted a pirate party for her birthday. She could have a pirate party when she was five. This time, she wanted a princess party.
Now I have no problem with the princess aspect of it. It is the commercial princess aspect of it that pisses me off. Trying to find party supplies without characters has been challenging. I am a stubborn fuck about it, though. I will not cave.
Yesterday, LittleBird turned four. She knew that her party was going to be on a different day.
She also knew that despite the lack of a party, this was her day.
After breakfast, LittleBird announced she needed a cake. A princess cake. For her princess birthday. She didn't quite say Get your bitch ass in the kitchen and bake me a cake! but it was close enough.
Thank god I have a princess cake pan I picked up at a thrift shop stashed in the cabinet.
So I did. We sat on the floor. She helped me pour the mix. We added the ingredients. We put it in the oven. We watched it rise.
In my stupidity and rushing around, I attempted to skip a few steps.
I flipped the cake out of the princess pan.
And it broke.
Like the Evil Queen zapped the Little Princess with her wand.
I called LittleBird to the kitchen to tell her the bad news. Her face clouded over, and heavy rain was on the horizon. Her princess cake was ruined, and she valiantly struggled to bend her four-year old psyche around that fact.
Then she took a breath, and asked if she could eat a piece of it.
Of course she could.
Fairytales are what you make of them. Some may suffer a sad and painful death in our household, but in their place we create our own. And that makes all the difference.