Once a princess, always a princess

Today was a relatively busy day of volunteering at the Atlanta History Center. We had a large event ("Sheep to Shawl") that was essentially a petting zoo, open farmhouse, multi-demonstration free-for-all. My duties for the day included some crowd control during the open house, answering questions, and being partially adorable.

Above: Me, being partially adorable in mid-1800s costume.

I don't know if it was my previous charisma learned from all my princess lessons at Disney, but I was a huge hit today. Oddly enough, I'm always a huge hit with Japanese tourists, who want multiple pictures with me because I'm clearly ultra kawaii.

I had a few Japanese tourists today, and they were presh as all get-out, but I have to tell you about a particularly endearing experience I had today.

This little girl had to have been just barely four years old. I commented on her awesomely colorful dress (as the inner princess in me is wont to comment on all little girls' dresses and discuss how much fun it is to twirl in said dresses), and unlike 99% of the kids I saw today, she didn't clam up all shyly. Later that day, toward the end of the event, her dad brought her back to my "station" at the porch, and oh, brother, did this girl ever talk.

"I'd like to dance, please. Try this dance. Now, try this one! I want to twirl." Et cetera, ad adorablum. (PS: Imagine all of that said in a little baby British accent. No, I'm not making that up.)

After spending a great deal of time twirling, dancing, and teaching this girl the hokey pokey, her dad confided in me that the little girl (Erin, or "Eh-win," as she introduced herself), had asked him many times if he could take her back to "see the princess." My heart.

Naturally, this resulted in me giving Eh-win extra dances, making her pinky-swear that she would never ever stop wanting to dance, and giving her a dear princess hug.

Conclusion: I miss working at Disney.