A New Reality

One of my daughter's favorite things to do is play with her doll house. We spend hours re-enacting every Disney movie scene, every scene from her favorite books, and every scene when she got in trouble (only this time she's the Mommy). It's fun to see her take on things, and what she absorbs in terms of behavioral roles and perspectives. Plus, she really just cracks me up (the Daddy is always causing accidents).

Our most recent role play is derived directly from Fire Safety day at her school (perhaps you remember her fear of the smoke detectors?). The scene goes pretty simply: I assemble all the people in their beds while she mans one of Joseph's fire trucks. An alarm then sounds, causing everyone to wake, run from the house, take a quick attendance, and then dial 911 (or 9111111, as O recalls).

After this, O pushes the fire truck onto the scene (driven by Princess Barbie) while announcing the "The Princess is here to save the day!"

She then proceeds to slowly promenade Barbie before the "burning house" so that the despairing family can take in her lovely dress.

I try to remind her that the fire will not wait for such pomp and circumstance, and she, in turn, glares at me while beginning Barbie's dance routine.

The family, now surrounded by falling, flaming timbers of wood that once framed their house, looks on as Barbie pirouettes, plies, releves, and brings the kind of flair that every fire company looks for.

Again, I try to remind her that time is of the essence and that maybe the Mommy can start with some of the hoses.

She responds: "Not until her song is over". Barbie then begins to sing a rousing rendition of "Aint' No Mountain High Enough" while the house is all but diminished to a smoldering pile of rubble.

Then, as if nothing happens, she whips out the hose and sprays what amounts to pink and cream colored ashes.

Barbie, however, still looks fabulous.