Tout le monde a son prix

Literally, "Everyone has his price." Or hers, in this case

I've written before, I think, about Mermaid Girl's...er...lack of enthusiasm for the move. And despite the Canadianicity Practice in evidence as of the last post, she's still been liable to fall into weeping and lamentation whenever we dwell too much on the subject. Sometimes she'll chide us for even bringing it up: "Who started talking about moving? You should have known that would make me sad!" The best we can hope for is tepid approval of any Vancouver-related idea.

Until last night.

Renaissance Woman was the one who broke the news that we'd signed her up for two summer camps North of the border. This was not out of the blue; we'd consulted with her, told her about the programs we'd found, and asked her what she'd like to do before registering her. So we were taken aback when she gave us one of her trademark glowers upon hearing that she was signed up for circus camp.

"You should have asked me first," she spat out.

We stammered that we had asked her, and she'd wanted to, but that we supposed we could cancel if she'd changed her mind.

Anyway, RW hastened on, that wasn't the only camp she was going to; there was also Little Girl of the 1920's Camp, where for a week she'd get to dress up and have tea parties and ride the carousel every day.

Whereupon MG leaped upon RW; hugged her repeatedly, cried out that she was "perfect! You're perfect, Mama!" and topped it off by insisting, "Promise me we're moving! PROMISE me!"

Well. All right, then.

Who knew that the way to our girl's heart was through a pile of dressup clothes in a rec center?