a wee bit of elfin wisdom

"Do you know what's wrong with you, Papa?"

I didn't look over my shoulder to address my little one as I was busy trying to look for the proper shirt to wear to tonight's date. I was cutting it close with driving; I'd forgotten today was the day Elisa, Mira's nanny, got her day off. Raj had something pretty spectacular planned for their six-month anniversary and nothing I could say (read: beg) could put him off. So it was off to Samantha's house for the Elfling, than back across town to Megan's house.

"Papa?"

"Yes, love, you were about to tell me what was wrong with me." Maybe I should go with the purple one with the green stripes.

"You like falling in love too much."

The statement was so remarkably cynical for a seven-year-old that I was yanked out of my clothing dilemma. "I'm sorry, Mira, love, but how did you manage to come up with that idea?"

My daughter gave me a slow and exaggerated shrug. I eyed her body critically. My mother was going to tell me that I was being ridiculous again, but in my eyes she still looked too thin. Children her age should have round, pink cheeks and limbs you can draw with circles, shouldn't they? Maybe I should start eating meat too just to encourage her.

"Well, it's mostly because Atti told me so. But it's also your date tonight," said Mira decisively. "She's all wrong for you, Papa."

My brows rose up. "Oh, is she now?"

"Yes." My baby nodded sagely

"And how do you know that?"

Mira crossed her arms and announced, "She smells wrong."

Frowning, I said, "Elf, that wasn't very kind. And besides, Megan always smells fantastic so I don't know what you're talking about."

Heaving a patient sigh, Mira shook her head. "Not smells bad, Papa, smells wrong. She smells wrong for you."

"And what," I wanted to know, "is that supposed to mean?" I mimicked my daughter's stance: arms crossed and upper body leaning back at a slight angle.

"If you don't understand, I couldn't possibly explain it," said Mira. "You smell right. Auntie Samantha and Gran smell right. So do Atti and the Fellowship Uncles. But Megan doesn't."

"She doesn't?"

"No."

Now I was truly puzzled. "Why not?"

"Pa-paaa." Mira rolled her eyes heavenward in the same way she always did whenever her beloved papa asked for help with the computer. "She just doesn't. I'm not the one who gives her the smell, you know. It's just... there."

"Is it now?" I turned back to my closet. "Well, smelly or not, I've still got a date with her. I highly doubt that Le Crocodile will cancel a reservation because one of their patrons didn't have the correct odour."

"I thought you hated Le Crocodile."

I shrugged. "Maybe it'll grow on me." Definitely the green and purple. There were simply no other choices. "Megan loves Le Crocodile."

"If she was the right one, she'd love going to your restaurants, too."

With a smile, I said, "Love is a little bit more complicated than just agreeing on food, Elfling."

"You're not really in love with her, are you?"

My hands paused in the middle of sorting through my cavern of a wardrobe. "It's far too soon to tell, love, but..." I searched for a simple way to explain what I felt. "Well, she seems to be a genuinely nice girl and I don't meet those too often any more. Present company accepted." I let out a soft chuckle to ease the dark mood.

Short, cotton-clad arms came up to hug my leg. "Papa, I don't need a mummy, you know."

I looked down at my daughter in shock. "What... what do you mean?"

Guilt crept into her eyes. "I heard you talking to Atti before. I didn't mean to, Papa--" she hurried to insist, "--I was only going to my room to fetch a CD but I heard you say my name and you were telling Atti about how I was growing up too quickly and how I needed a mummy for all the girl things and...

"I don't need the girls things!" she said viciously. "They're useless and icky. I like boy things. I like footie and the cinema and swimming and snowboarding just like you. We've already got Elisa and Auntie Sam; mummies would get in the way. They'd tell us not to do those fun things and they'd make me wear frills!" The last was almost a whine as a look of desperation came over her.

It was an expression that shot something sharp into my heart and twisted. I crouched down and gripped Mira's shoulders firmly. "Elf, I'd never, ever, ever do anything to make you unhappy, do you hear?"

Mira wrinkled her nose. "What about that time when you wouldn't let me near the computer for a three whole days?"

"That was because you broke Gran's special vase when you were running around even after you were told more than enough times not to." I rubbed my hands up and down her arms. "I meant for large, important things. Things like choosing schools and getting mummies and coming along when I'm at shoots."

I embraced her tight, gratified to feel her hug me back even tighter. "I wouldn't force myself to fall in love just to give you a mum." Kissing her temple, I added, "I'm not that stupid, you know, even if I'm technologically challenged."

Giggling, Mira said, "Papa, the computer cries when you stand too close."

"You cheeky little monkey!" I pulled at one of her blonde locks. "Just for that, I'm going to tell Auntie Sam that you can't play on her computer while I'm gone."

"Pa-paaa!"

"Mi-raaa!" I kissed her forehead and stood back up. "Go get your bag, time's a-wastin'."

I watched her skip off down the hall. Halfway there, she spun around and ran back into my room. "Papa?"

I shoved my head through the opening of my shirt. "Yes, Elf?"

"I'll miss you, Papa."

Oh... I melted into a green-and-purple puddle of sticky, mawkish goo. "I'll miss you, too, Elf."

"But it's all right 'cause I'll just surf over to one of your fansites to look at all your pictures and read poetry about you." She pursed her face into an exaggerated pucker. "Oh, Orlandooo, my manly hunk of elve-- aaaaaahh!"

Mira was carried to her papa's car by her ankles.