Middle Munchkin came flouncing into the room wearing her best frilly dress. Under her arm was tucked another. “Here,” she thrust it toward her brother. “Put this on.”
Munchkin Boy crossed his arms and scowled. He then proceeded to charge past Middle Munchkin, ignoring the gleam in her eye. She was contemplating, I could tell, wrestling her brother to the ground and making him wear the dress anyway. He had never before refused her request to be her walking, talking dress-up doll.
Instead, she shrugged and huffed. “Mom, Munchkin Boy won’t play with me.”
It wasn’t long before Munchkin Boy was back, also dressed in his nicest clothes. He was wearing khaki slacks and a button down shirt. He had fumbled the buttons so that they were off by one, but he was looking quite handsome, none-the-less.
“See,” he said, “I wear prince clothes.”
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Just sorting through old files and found this. Written December 2003.
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