Princess Balboa

Earlier this week, Ryan got into the van, full of a story about how:

"Kyle pushed me on the playground, and I fell down.  I can't believe it, he just pushed me, and I got hurt.  I told the teacher.  He had to go sit by the wall."

All in the breathless cadence of a seven year old, the sentence was out in fifteen seconds.

I'm driving away, and I hear Audrey start to babble, talking to herself, me, who knows?

I catch this:  "....hurt Ryan...and I'm gonna go to 'chool, and I'm gonna find Kyle, and I'm gonna push him down...I push him down, and pour spiders on his face." 

??? What? <grin>

"Sweetie, what are you talking about?"

"That boy, he's mean, he hurt Ryan.  I push him down."

I see.  "And the spiders?"

"Spiders are 'cary.  I 'care him."

All this time, we joke about Audrey not dating when she's older, with all the men in her life. 

Here she is, protecting one of them.    It's probably a good thing she doesn't know what that kid looks like.

My three year old, not the Princess we think she is, but Defender of the Realm.

I kinda like that.

And should there be any doubt that she is abandoning the girliness, this also has happened, over the last week or so...

I parked the van, and got out, opening the door behind mine, because that is where her carseat is.

No Audrey.

What the.....?

There she is, in the passenger seat.  The visor is down, so the mirror is exposed.  She's checking her lippy.  (*kid lippy*) I do a double take, as she leans in, closer to the mirror, and wipes the excess that is outside her lipline off her face. 

"Now, I'm ready,"  she announces.

I don't know where she got that from.