|Me and my Cessna wings.|
“But where are your wings?!” she exclaimed, her tiny 5-year old fingers exploring the center of my back.
“I left them in the hangar!” I smiled back, trying not to laugh too much.
A couple minutes previously, someone at the barbecue had shouted a welcome using my “call sign” Tankerbelle. (Mr. T = “Tank” when he’s formation flying, and the assigned feminine derivative for me is Tankerbelle.)
My little friend heard Tinkerbell and got really excited at the prospect of a real life fairy in the backyard. For the rest of the evening, she peppered me with fairy related questions.
“Can you fly?”
“Where are your wings?”
“In the hangar, I told you. I’ve got Cessna wings.” This explanation did not stop her from checking my back just one more time.
“Can you breathe under water?” she asked, bespeckled fingernails shining as she fiddled with her beaded swimsuit tassels.
“Nope, I’m not a water fairy.”
“Do you talk to flowers?” she wondered, apparently going through her mental encyclopedia of fairy traits.
“Nope, I’m not a garden fairy.”
“Well, what kind of fairy are you?”
“An airplane fairy!”
She looked at me a little exasperated, but seemed to accept the answer.
Throughout the early Summer event, she picked me a bouquet of flowers (sorry again about your landscaping, Diane!), invited me to eat some bird seed from the feeder (I declined), and tried with significant energy and cuteness to get me to go swimming fully clothed (no dice). My favorite part of the evening was when she stripped mulberry leaves from a nearby tree (again, sorry Diane!), fashioned them into a Tinkerbell-esque skirt, and wanted me to try it on.
I don’t see many small fries in my day to day, and I loved interacting with a confident, spunky and hilarious little girl. (Seriously, this kid should get her own TV show one day. She’s a crack up.)
We saw my fairy loving friend at a gathering last night and she had some serious explaining to do.
“So, you were a peacock for Halloween?” I inquired after a giant hug of greeting. Big round eyes gaped back at me.
“How did you know that?” she squeaked.
Before she started wondering if I’m an airplane fairy with mind reading powers, I explained that her dad told me. “Why weren’t you a fairy, missy??”
“Well, I was Tinkerbell last year.”
A few flying things:
– My favorite weekend of the year: The Reno Air Races
– Ode to the Reno Air Races
– Photos of the 2012 California Capital Airshow
– Flying history: Buzzing around in a Stearman Biplane
– Flygirl in Training: First time flying left seat
– Tag, I’m it for NaBloPoMo