You might think I would be done with Disney posts, considering we've already been back home for a few days. You would be wrong. I have always openly admitted this is a narcissistic little blog, and I still have things I want to document about the trip. Feel free to click away if you are sick of the Pixie Dust and Mouse ears. :-)

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As we strolled through Disney studios, Alexis spotted a familiar sight. "I want a tutu!" she declared.

A "tutu" is a tattoo. I could correct her pronunciation, but what fun would that be?

Mr. Husband and I peered around until we found what she was referring to--a little cart manned by a lone woman and her temporary tattoos. We glanced at the prices and figured what the hell? She hadn't managed to talk us into any toys or clothes at that point, so $6 seemed like we might just be getting off easy.

We informed the short person that she would have to pick one, and only one, tattoo. There were literally hundreds to choose from--everything from generic Bulldogs, skulls, and lightening bolts to Disney's entire cast of characters. She looked at the princesses, and carefully declared that she wanted the Mermaid. Then she spotted a bunch of Mickey and Minnie tats and said, "Wait!" She slowly studied them all before settling on the one of Minnie wearing a pink princess dress. Then she realized there was a whole other side to the cart, with literally hundreds more to choose from.

Mr. Husband and I stood back and let the kid continue with her declarations of, "I want that one!" which was always followed by, "No, I want that one!" Over and over and over. And over.

Then she saw it.

THE one.

Violet.

Alexis' current favorite Disney movie is The Incredibles, and Violet is a rock star in her eyes. I asked everywhere about finding a "real" Violet for Alexis to meet, but unfortunately the only appearances Violet makes in any of the parks is the invisible type. It seemed that a Violet tattoo was almost as good as spotting the real thing from 500 feet, especially considering Alexis would certainly freak the heck out if she got too close.

Alexis sat veeeeeery still as the tattoo artist applied the tattoo. More still than anything I've ever seen. I'm sure she was having some sort of inner dialogue about how she didn't want to be near the stranger, but she really wanted Violet on her arm. She probably figured if she stayed still enough, she would be invisible just like Violet.

When it was done, Alexis looked at her arm and grinned another one of those Disney magic-induced grins.

As we resumed our tour of MGM (you can't make me call it Disney Studios, dammit), Alexis kept glancing down at her arm to admire Violet. I would tell you how many times she crashed into poles, people, or plants, but I lost count at about ten. Seriously. The kid just couldn't stop admiring her Violet tattoo.

When she pulled her arm to her lips to give Violet a kiss, I got a little worried. I don't really need to try to explain to my 3-year old why she can't have a REAL Violet tattoo. I think we'll leave the permanent skin alteration battles for the teen years, thankyouverymuch.

And yet, a few days later, I found myself wishing Violet would have had a wee bit more staying power. It seems that a couple of days in the gorgeous Florida sun caused a tiny bit more toddler sweat than normal and poor Violet had started to fade. Bad. In fact, she was pretty much peeling off in chunks. As we stood in line at France (Epcot) for pastries, I brushed a dangling chunk of Violet off of Alexis' arm. It came off very cleanly, so I turned a little OCD and started to rub all of the blurry Violet off Alexis.

Alexis went BALLISTIC. We're talking Category 5 meltdown, but of the VERY, VERY, VERY angry kind. Alexis was SO pissed at me. It took ten minutes to calm her down, and even then it was only with promises of a new Violet tattoo (which never actually happened, but Alexis did manage to get a nice Violet outline from where the skin under the tattoo didn't tan like the rest of her arm).

It's amazing how easy it is to be put up on that Good Parent Pedestal, and even more amazing how fast a kid can knock you right off of it. Then rip out your guts.