Tell me a story..

It's been a wild and crazy ride hasn't it?
I mean.. if you keep up.. or even jus stroke tally.. I'm on a mission and not quite sure where it's takin us..
So.. in honor of the fact that I've faced more than one of my fears lately..

E came over on Saturday and told me his mom was takin Snowball to Mass.. and while he brought us outside to see if I still knew how to work a pit (I do, but we always deny knowledge in case it stops a man from feelin.. like.. manly) ..
And walking back into the house a ladybug lands on me.
And while my heart kinda stopped a second and a part of my soul smiled and reached for my cell phone.. the rest of me remembered this.

A long time ago there were two little girls. One was mine and one was firmly determined to not be with us ... especially at bed time..
And me being me.. I created all sorts of games and things to avoid said tears and sneaking to the livin room to call her momma and daddy..
There were tickle fights, alphabet games, sammichs, and bedtime stories.

The rules were simple.. I started and we all took a turn.

"Once upon a time there was a queen with two little princesses.. one was as fair as the other was dark.."

And depending on who had managed to earn my wrath in the day/night/weekend... someone's head would roll.
Sometimes that someone's head would roll over and over again.Sometimes said person was cast into the role as troll..Sometimes a fair prince.. sometimes an honorary uncle..


Over the years the sleepovers have ceased.
Over the years we've lost track of our troll.
We've had a major turnover in the cast of our fairytale.

And then.. just as we think that we've seen the last of the old cast of characters..
enter stage left a troll from years and years ago.
He once had a part near and dear to the region that housed my heart.

And he wasn't ugly nor was he rude... And it was like all those times I thought about being home again.. except you know.. for the part that I'm already home and entirely a different person than he used to torture.

And standin there in my supposed wig and my apple green dress.. I flashed for a second to the ladybug landing on my arm.. and the long ago conversation that ladybugs bite.. he knew.. and this one does too. And I am reminded of the quick tempered, sharp tongued girl of the past. Who was as quick to anger as she was to forgive.. She made some mistakes.. she changed her path.. she made her choices even when people said she'd be sorry. And there she is standing in front of the church facin her past with her currents firmly alongside of her. -- and right about then her princesses walked up.. one just as fair as the other was dark.. and joined me.

and there we are. . . together again.

For no other reason than the ending of the story I am glad to have been able to be polite. And he was kind and it was peaceful. And that my friends is the moral of the story.. when you can go home and face your demons and end up at the end of the nite in the midst of your family with a smile on your face (belly dancing or no belly dancin) you know that you're in the right spot.. you're in the right place.. you're on the right path. You knew it all along.. you jus needed to be reminded of the old you and why she had to go where she did to become this person you know so well.

And they will all live happily ever after.. Just as soon as I finish writing the script.