Pink Shoes: Dear Dorothy, Tin-Man, & the Scarecrow.......

I loathe you. Literally loathe you. You consume many waking minutes of my day, and all of my daughters. We took Georgia to see you in the Wizard of Oz at our local theater because we had free tickets--way back at the beginning of December. You all helped create an addict. I guess it's true what they say, "The first taste is always free." Since that day I am regularly engaged in conversations like this:

"Mommy, what was your favorite part of the Wizard of Oz?"

And when I say, "The part where Dorothy fell asleep in the poppies," I have to explain why......and I could care less about those poppies--it's just an answer.......but heaven knows I wouldn't mind a few poppies to smoke come four in the afternoon and I'm literally skipping down an imaginary yellow brick road for the twentieth time that day.

While screeching, "Mommy.....you put your purse down on Dorothy. She's sitting right there."
"Don't move any of these blocks, fake food, dishes, dress up clothes, bits of ripped up paper, broken crayons, or magnets. They are part of the yellow brick road."

Sweet. I'll just side-step through a mine field of sharp objects and wet paper (I'm sure you're as lost on this one as I am) in an effort to eliminate one more Wizard of Oz related melt-down.

"What'd you say Georgia?" "I'm not talking to you--I'm talking to the Scarecrow."
"Can we listen to the Wizard of Oz songs on the iPod?"

I know, I get what I ask for. I must have been smoking some of those poppies when I down-loaded Judy Garland warbling 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow.' On a brighter note, Chris and I know all of the words to DingDong the Witch is Dead, not something most people since.........1932..............have been able to say. So, that's cool.

"What was Glinda's last name?"

No idea. "But she had to have one. Everyone has a last name." Right--I think it was Jones. "No, that's not it. " Smith. "Nope." Gallerini (my maiden name). "Yes. That's right. It's Glinda Gallerini." Phew. Glad that's settled.

While crying, "I'm not ready to eat dinner yet because Dorothy isn't here yet."

I didn't invite her. She's eating at the Lion's house for dinner tonight. Get in your chair.

"Wait. We can't leave this aisle (at the grocery store) because the Tin Man hasn't picked out what he wanted yet."

Yeah, well.....he'll have to find us over in the juice aisle when he's finished picking out his favorite bake n'break cookies because we're moving on.

"Oh no. There's going to be a storm. Do you think it will be the same storm that was in the Wizard of Oz?" (And please be mindful that this comment is thrown out there whenever a mention of a storm occurs on our news--which is always--because our forecasters are nuts about storms. They were born for them, they love them, they're crazy.

Yes, we're all going to get sucked up in a big giant twister and land in the creepiest world there is.....Oz. (I don't say that--but I'm getting darn close).

"I didn't do that. Dorothy did."

Well please inform her that if she does it again, there might be some spanking up in here--see how the wizard likes that.

"What was your favorite part of the Wizard of Oz? Your other favorite part."

I already told you.........five minutes ago.......and 10 minutes before that.......and 5 minutes before that. My favorite part was when a great big hole opened up in the ground and swallowed them all.........oh wait.........

But lest you think I'm a total jerk to Dorothy and her main men............I am thankful for ruby slippers..........

because the promise of them resulted in some success on the potty--success I never thought we'd experience prior to the age of five for my un-bribeable daughter. I guess you should never under-estimate the power of Oz. Just three clicks of these babies, "There's nothing like the potty, There's nothing like the potty, There's nothing like the potty,".............and we were cheering in the bathroom.

Oh, and I'm also thankful for tutus and wands and crowns and a great husband......because he's been able to show us what drag-Glinda might have looked like.