Late Night Ramblings of a Very Tired Little Girl

After a long day recovering from yet another bout with the stomach flu, Norah asked to cuddle with Daddy in her chair before bed, "Just for a little bit" as the kids are prone to ask. I had spent very little time with her and was happy to comply. This evidently opened the flood gates of Norah's stream of consciousness and she proceeded to quickly and quietly chatter off a torrent of random questions and observations too numerous for my faulty memory to recount.

Norah's thoughts on aging:
It all started as I committed a serious faux pas, calling her my "baby girl" as we cuddled in her chair. "I'm not a baby. Why don't you let me grow into a big girl?" I told her she didn't have to be a big girl yet, but someday she would grow up and be a big girl, then a young lady, and eventually a woman. Her response, "I don't want to be a woman, and I don't want to be a boy. I'm a little girl." I guess that settles it.

Norah's thoughts on marriage:
"I am a princess and Justin is a prince, so we are gonna get married when we grow up." I advised her that was not customary in this state, and explained her lineage. I told her she would have to find an unrelated handsome prince and if he was really nice to her, treated her well, and Daddy liked him, then they could get married. Justin would have to find a beautiful princess to marry, but there was truly no rush. She wasn't fooled and corrected me only to immediately change her mind- "I'm not going to marry Justin, I'm just looking for my handsome prince, but it's just really, really hard and stupid." That spawned conversation regarding words we don't use.
She hurriedly added a further requirement of her future beau "And he doesn't spit!"

Further elaboration- Why Justin is not the ideal husband:
"Justin bites me and hits me with his tools, and spits! He called me stupid and makes my heart go away! He needs a spanking!" Spring fever came early this season. It was rough day.

Regarding Santa and Christmas procedure:
"We forgot to give presents to Santa! We just give him cookies. He's so big, that doesn't make sense!", while cocking her head to the side and throwing her hands in the air.

Following the previous Santa analysis, Random thoughts on the Grinch :
"Then the sea monster goes down people's chimneys and steals their toys. He's not very nice." I assured her the Grinch would never come down our chimney (unspoken: he lives here already and normally enters through the garage. Rim shot! Confess, everyone is guilty of thinking it). She looked at me in disbelief. "No silly, he goes to other people's houses." Of course. My mistake, the Grinch would never plunder his own abode. That would be madness.