It’s early and I go in to wake Swee’Pea and TheMonk to begin another day.  TheMonk, even though he chattered away for more than an hour after we put him to bed the previous night, greets me with enthusiasm and jumps up for me to lift him out of his crib.

Swee’Pea, who had to listen to a certain boy chatter away for over an hour the previous night, is not so keen on waking up.  She rolls over, her back to me, and curls up even more than before clutching her plush kitty to her face as she tries to will more sleep.

I quickly change TheMonk and turn him loose on the rest of the house.  He makes a beeline to the master suite to say good morning to Mommy while I turn my attention to Swee’Pea.  After a few failed attempts to get her to roll over so I can pick her up, I remind her that today we are going to Sea World day camp and that I need her to get up.  As soon as she gets up she looks to see the clothes that I have laid out for her and I know what is coming.  I have laid out shorts and a t-shirt, thinking this proper camp attire, but I know that Swee’Pea will want to wear a “princess dress” instead.

Sure enough, she asks for a Princess Dress and I explain that I don’t think it would be a good idea to wear a dress to Sea World camp.  Not satisfied with this answer and still foggy from only getting 10  hours of sleep rather than the 11 she’s used to, she loses her sanity and starts to scream and thrash about, all the while screaming, “I WANT A PRINCESS DRESS!! I WANT A PRINCESS DRESS!!!!”  while hardly appearing princess-like.

At that same moment that my little girl is so upset because she’s afraid her princess status will be revoked if she even goes near a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, TheMonk comes running into the room, oblivious to his sister’s screams.

“Watch Daddy! Watch me!” he says.

While pinning Swee’Pea down and wrestling a pair of shorts on her, I look over to TheMonk to see what he wants me to watch.  Realizing he has my full attention, he faces up to me, feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, and rips out an impressively loud fart, complete with facial contortions that make it really clear that this was a planned gas attack.  Mission accomplished, he laughs out loud and runs out of the room leaving me to finish dressing Swee’Pea.

Swee’Pea calms down when I show her that the t-shirt I want to put on her is a fairy-princess shirt (yeah, I’m smart like that).  This seems to appease her as she will still be pushing her princess status for all to see.

As I release Swee’pea to go say hi to Mommy and Nutmeg the cat, I pause for a moment to reflect on what has just transpired.  And I can’t help but wonder, just how, exactly, did I get myself into a world where Princesses and Farting Monkeys collide?