Why toddlers don't make good princes

Oh goody! I get to be part of yet another blog, because I don't have enough distractions already.

Fortunately, I have all kinds of training as a professional journalist and know how to accurately misquote people. This just happened the other day, as I was babysitting two darling girls across the street; the oldest one is age four. I'll call her Princess, for reasons that will become apparent in the dialogue.

My son is three and worships her.

Princess sits on the bottom step and aims her baby blues at my helpless son, Seth.

Princess: "There's a monster in my room and you have to go kill it!"

Seth gazes uncertainly up the stairs. "The light's not on."

Princess: "You HAVE to kill the MONSTER in my bedroom with your sword!"

Seth: "But I'm scared of the dark."

Oh well, I guess you had to be there. I thought it was hilarious. (After yours truly flicked on the lights, the brave Seth did indeed go upstairs and slay the hideous monster, in case you were worried).

Next time I will try to remember something less lame, I promise.