So today Thing 1, Thing 2, and I were watching out the window when three crows landed in the yard. One of them had a little broken foot that he limped on as he strutted around the yard. Because I am a novelist and compulsive liar, the following conversation then took place:

Me: Look at the three crow brothers. They probably miss being princes.

Thing 1 (arching her eyebrows in disbelief): They were princes?

Me: Yes. See that one's hurt leg? They were fighting a witch and she damaged his leg. The oldest brother's. Then she turned them into crows.

Thing 1: Why did she do that?

Me: They were trying to win their castle back from her. They were very brave, but her magic was too strong.

Thing 1: So why are they here?

Me: Because there is a princess here and they're worried about the witch finding her and turning her into a crow too.

Thing 1 (disbelief melting into pink appreciation of the flattery): Am I the princess?

Me: Of course. Look how they're guarding the house.

Thing 1: How long will they be crows?

Me: Until the witch dies. Or until someone kills her.

Thing 1: How long until she dies?

Me: A long time. Maybe hundreds of years. Witches can live a very long time.

A few minutes later, I hear her retelling the story to Thing 2 as she points out the window at the crows. I liked the ending, myself:

Thing 1: They will probably have to kill the witch.

Thing 2: How?

Thing 1: Pecking.



Ah, a girl after my own heart.