For about six months, I had the joy of being many for a funny, sweet, adorable girl that I called Little Bird. I would get there in the morning during her nap, we would play in her room and then go to the park before lunch. Sometimes I’d do laps around the park before or after we spent some time on the swings. When the weather was nice, it was great to just be outside and wander together.
I always knew when it was time to go with Little Bird would start making a sound similar to a lawn mower. Those little growls were my 15 minute warning signal. If I did not have some food in her tummy soon, the volume was going up and the tears were coming down (hers and possibly mine). Wherever we were in the park, I’d turn the stroller toward home and try my best to get there in time.
That growl was my warning that Cinderella was about to turn into a pumpkin so we needed to be home…NOW.
Thanks to Little Bird, I learned more about my own limits and recognizing when I was about to be a pumpkin myself. After about two hours at a friend’s birthday, I felt a switch inside. It was still a good time and lots of nice people there, but I was just done. I said good night to the birthday girl and headed home. Pajamas and a bit of reading were the perfect end to the day.
I might have missed out on some great conversation or memorable experience (YOLO and all), but probably not. It would have probably continued to be a pleasant evening for a bit longer and then I would have driven home exhausted. By admitting that I was almost a pumpkin, I had a better evening as a whole.
This princess slipped back on her shoes, and headed out to a four-door carriage parked down the street. No growling required.
“We are the spark, that will light the fire that’ll burn the First Order down” (Poe Dameron, Star Wars: The Last Jedi). – #52sparks is my year-long writing series for 2020, based on an art prompt challenge. The spark that lights a fire to toast a marshmallow or to ravage a forest begins in the space of an inch. This series is to explore what hundreds of inches and words can do.