My own little sugar plum fairy.

Lily and I bought discount tickets to The Nutcracker this holiday season.  I try to take each of my daughters (who are old enough to appreciate it... somewhat) to a cultural event each calendar year.  In early November, the two of us had plans to go to a Philharmonic concert; plans that were thwarted when Lily came down with the flu, the inevitable result of too much Halloween candy and a strong resistance to eat anything nutritious to balance it out. 

Just before we left for The Nutcracker, Lily started complaining of a stomachache.  On our drive downtown, she was virtually silent and unresponsive to several of my attempts at conversation.  When I asked her why, she said, "I've been saying a prayer that my tummy will get better."  I chuckled at her childlike faith and said a prayer of my own, first, that she would feel up to sticking out the performance on which I had dropped more cash than I'm used to.  Then I changed my prayer and asked that Lily would learn her stinkin' lesson!  She is the only member of our family who has managed to snag pretty much every virus that has reared its ugly head in these parts.  No one else has even come close.  The correlation between diet and disease is painfully obvious to the rest of us, but, up to this point, she has denied the role her "picky-ness" plays in her inability to ward off illness.

I think she gets it, cognitively-speaking, but we have to yet to discover any behavior modification.  Any day now.

Anyway, I called a friend whose daughters have taken ballet on and off for years and pawned the tickets off on her two oldest so at least someone got to benefit.  Lily barfed in a grocery bag just before we pulled into the driveway.  But at least we got a picture before leaving to remember the occasion that never happened.