Angel Butt, in the bathtub playing with her toys when it's time to dry off and get ready for bed: "NO! Play toys! No bed!"
Me: "You can take a bath tomorrow, but right now it's time to dry off and sit on the potty!" I pull the plug in the tub, and it makes a violent sucking sound, like the drain is hungry for blood.
Angel Butt: "NO! NO TOYS!" She frantically shoves each of her bath toys behind her body, eyeing the drain as it sucks and swirls. She looks at me, pleading with her eyes.
Me: "It's okay, your toys are too big. They won't go down the drain."
Angel Butt: "No water, no!" Try as she might, the pull of the drain is too strong and she isn't big enough to block all of her toys from advancing towards the whirling tide. In a fit of desperation, she begins stacking each toy on the side of the tub, out of harms way, working feverishly and glancing at me with frightened eyes.
Me: "Good idea, love. The toys will be safe up here." The water has now all drained from the tub, and she sits staring at the few toys left clustered around the silent drain.
Angel Butt: "Bye bye, water! See you later!" Grinning, she stands and extends her arms towards the waiting towel.
I am a sad, pathetic nerd. I googled "Forks, Washington" and squealed with glee when I saw it was a real place on Google maps. And La Push. And Port Angeles.
I'm going to go weep for my pride now.
Today is birthday party #3 of the Ark-Invasion (like the British Invasion, but with fewer shoes) and I'm pretty sure that Angel Butt is going to associate Minnesota with Birthdays forever going forward, and will always be disappointed by the lack of trick candles and chocolate cake on future visits.
I was hoping my mother would forget all about her request, but last night as I kissed all of the family goodnight and walked towards the safety of my bedroom, I heard her call after me, "Maybe TOMORROW you can help me set up my Facebook page..." I pretended I didn't speak English.