Monday, May 28, 2007

Tiny Pink Ella

Every once in a while a story I've written in my notebook gets lost in the shuffle, only to be found and shared later when the fodder hasn't given me a chance to write about them lately. "Running Errand" was one such story. This is another. The events below transpired this past February.

Tiny Pink Ella

"Look, Mama, Pink Ella is jumping on a trampoline," Ella exclaimed from the back of the car.

"Uh huh," I said. "Did you jump on a trampoline with Miss Joni today?" I knew her babysitter had taken Ella and her friend Emilie to a trampoline-owning friend's house earlier this morning in an attempt to jump some energy out of the girls, so I assumed she was playing out her experience from earlier.

"No, Mommy, PINK ELLA is jumping on a trampoline." I was obviously missing something here, and we were at a red light so I glanced in the rearview mirror to see what she was talking about.

"See? She's in here." Ella was peering down the neck of a fleece jacket she must have found on the seat beside her. "She's so tiny," my daughter explained. "Oh," was the only response I could think of. A tiny, imaginary you must be a flight risk, because Ella quickly zipped up the fleece and held it closed at the top. The rest of the way home she kept opening up the top of the fleece just enough so she could peek in at the "so tiny Pink Ella," who was hiding in there.

As soon as we got home Ella found a flashlight and shined it down the neck of her jacket so she could better see "Tiny Ella's tiny eyes," as well as the "spiders and nice bats" that were down there now as well. As it turns out, Tiny Pink Ella had been waiting for me to leave the room to reveal her true, tiny evil self. Her trampoline, her tiny little eyes, even the bats and nice spiders must have all been a rouse, for when I came back from warming Addison's bottle things had definitely taken a turn for the worse. Regular-size Ella was laying on the floor with the lower half of her body crammed into the neck of the fleece. "Help me, Mamma!" she cried as I entered the room. "Tiny Ella is pulling me in!" Oh, my.

Like any parent, my first reaction was to save my offspring from the terrible, tiny, horror that surely awaited her if she got sucked in, but then I paused to think about it. In the end I let her go--if I only had one child, there was a chance I might be able to take a nap. Good luck and God speed, regular-size Ella. I'll see you on the other side.


  1. She got that from me. One day I got myself caught up in my jacket. It was zipped from my feet to my waist. Not sure how I did that...sorry for teaching your daughter such a silly trick!!!

  2. Oh dear, what a tragically funny situation miss E got herself into- I had a flashback to when I was 5-6ish. I tried to squeeze my "not so tiny" thighs through the spindles on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Not a good plan-I had to be rubbed with soap and pushed back through-