I saw A the other night.
"Auntie CC," she exclaimed, "I want to tell you a story!"
"Oh," I replied, "about what?"
She looked up at me, her eyes bright and mischievous. "Hula and the Nini," she said.
I looked at her, and then at my sister. My sister merely shrugged. "Okay," I said, giving A my undivided attention.
"Once upon a time," A started, scooting closer to me on the sofa, "there was Hula and the Nini." She made an exaggerated gesture with her hands. "Hula lived in a big castle. Like Cinderella." She smiled, wide. "I like Cinderella."
"Me too," I said.
"Okay," A agreed. "But I get to be Cinderella."
I nodded and directed her attention back to the story. "What happens to Hula?"
"Oh," she smiled, in the only way an almost four year old could. "Hula lived in the castle and then the Nini came. And he said, Hula, you can't leave. And you know what?"
"What?" I asked.
"And the Nini, he locked Hula in the castle Auntie CC."
I pretended to look aghast. "And then what happened?"
A smiled again. "And then Hula. She cried and she cried. But you know what?"
"What?" I asked.
"And then the Prince came." A turned dreamy-eyed. "The Prince came and he helped Hula. And then he got the Nini and he put the Nini in the tower. And the Prince said to the Nini, you stay right here!"
By this time, I'm on the verge of laughter. "Is that all?" I asked, as coolly as possible.
A nodded. "Auntie CC, will you play Barbie with me? I get to be Cinderella."
I looked at my sister and we laughed.
