I don't talk about Pippi much anymore. I feel kind of weird talking about someone who can read every word I write. And she is just so much more than she's ever been in her life--bigger, more imaginative, more stubborn, more talented, more tenacious, more tender, more capable. There simply isn't time to perfectly portray this incredible girl and convey the way I feel about her. Today, I gift you with a wee example of her vivid imagination.
Halloween costumes are on our minds this time of year. We're getting catalogs in the mail nearly every day, and we want to look great for this special day of the year where we can be whoever we want to be and have an excuse to visit all of our neighbors.
Pippi and Bardo sit side by side at least once a day on the couch with a catalog dreaming of what they'll be. For a few days, Pippi was set on the Hannah Montana costume. The Warlock and I silently groaned and vowed that we would go to a costume store and do a bait and switch. Hannah Montana costumes are BORING (but they do contain a wig, and Pippi LOVES wigs). So you can imagine our relief when she began to talk ninja. But she did not only dream and talk, the girl began to act.
She emerged from her room cloaked in a snowflake polar fleece blanket. A handkerchief veiled her face except for the bright blue eyes. She wore her jazz pants over her pink leotard and for a minute wore her jazz boots until she realized she needed to go outside. She traded her jazz boots for her pink cowboy-turned-ninja boots, grabbed her belt and made sure that it fit loosely so it could fit her weapons. She ran outside, Bardo trailing behind, searching for those special sticks that would be her swords and daggers.
They played ninja for hours. When they brought sticks indoors, I reminded them, "No sticks in the house." Bardo replied, wide-eyed and offended, "But these are thwords and daggers."...as if that was going to make it okay...
Today Pippi got home from church and decided to improve on her costume design. She set to work putting together her Little Red Riding Hood Ninja costume made out of a red sheet. She showed me her moves, the ninja walk, the ninja sword and dagger swings and spins. "Ninjas move kind of like a hop and kind of like a skip. It's a combination." She leaped around, trying not to make a sound. When she couldn't perfect the art of silent motion, she explained, "Ninjas make that noise on purpose. It just sounds like animals." When we went on a walk she found a new stick, exclaiming, "I'm so happy I found this. It's perfect for my sword collection." And did I take a picture? Nope. What kind of a mother am I anyway?