“I’m Clarissa the Rock fairy,” the Mop announced.
“The what fairy?” I asked.
“The Rock Fairy,”
she said. “I like to rock!” I could see her eyes rolling at my ignorance as she
strummed her air guitar.
“Ohhh, a Rock and Roll Fairy,” I nodded.
“That’s my talent,” she said proudly.
“What do you play?” I asked.
“The giddar,” she replied.
“And do you sing?” I wanted to know.
“Of course,” she
sighed dramatically.
“That’s awesome. Now go to bed so you can get up tomorrow
and rock some more.” I was so tired my eyes were sticking together and I couldn’t
walk straight. School holidays were doing me in.
The Mop flounced off in the direction of her bedroom.
Walking in to her room a few minutes later I saw her sitting
on her bed holding a toy bilby. I collapsed on the rug.
“Maybe I should be a aminal fairy,” she said stroking the
toy. “I like aminals. Maybe I can be both.”
She looked at me lying prone on the floor. It felt like the
day would never end.
“What’s your talent?” she asked.
“I’m the Sleep Fairy,” I muttered, my face buried in the
rug.
“You mean a Moon Fairy?” she asked. “You bring the moon out
to make people sleep?”
I sat up and looked at her, now feeding her little toy with
a plastic milk bottle. She looked up at me and smiled.
A Moon Fairy. What a beautiful concept, I thought. Suddenly
the day didn’t seem so long anymore. I wish I could capture this.
[And I just did]
Moon Fairy is beautiful! A writer would be called creative if they came up with that, and kids do it so naturally—how and why do we lose it by the time we're adults?
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