I have an affinity for fairies.
Not the Disney-fied fairies, rife with teenage attitude but the magical, slightly mischievous beings that inhabit the woods around our house.
As a child, my dad would point out a darker green circle in an expanse of grass and claim it to be a fairy ring. The evidence left behind of tiny, enchanted beings who had gathered there. If a toadstool was found in the vicinity, even better.
So it's no wonder that fairies are constant, welcomed visitors to our home.
Last year Seraphina, the sippy cup fairy arrived late one night to spirit away our sippy cups and donate them to children less fortunate. When Jack and Anna woke the next morning they found a note and small gift in place of the cups.
The pillow fairy makes once in a blue moon visits. Those rare days when whining has been at a minimum, co-operation at a high and it's almost as if some pixie dust goodness has been sprinkled on the littles. The pillow fairy leaves a special something under their pillows that night to say thank you.
Anna is still impatiently awaiting the arrival of the tooth fairy. Six years old and not even a hint of a wiggle. I'm not sure how much longer she can listen to her classmates jubilantly bound into the school or playground with the story of their latest lost tooth. Good things come to those who wait, I tell her.
So is it really any surprise that fairy dress up is a favourite activity in our house. Anna received her first pair of wings at nineteen months. A special gift from friends when Jack was born.
Last Halloween she was a sugar plum fairy.
And yesterday? Well the kids were supposed to dress up as something food related for this weeks library reading club and in typical imaginative fashion Anna proclaimed herself to be the lemonade fairy. A pink lemon printed dress, wings and tiara. I love this girl.
With her lithe little frame and glint in her eye I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if she was part fairy herself.