Our fae has a companion. Not a real one, but a stuffed toy which I may have alluded to a time or two in the past. This is a small, plush Dalmatian that goes by the moniker “Tiny Marshall”. This is a Paw Patrol reference (she has been obsessed for the best part of 4 years and it shows no sign of waning). Tiny Marshall is very important to her and, as a consequence, to us as her parents. He is mentioned in her EHCP (it was a point of amusement with her teachers that it was mentioned that we have 5 identical Tiny Marshall’s: 3 in active rotation with similar level of wear and two kept in reserve for when/if the others wear out – he really is that important).
So, when she woke up one morning and insisted that he had to have breakfast, we shrugged, dumped some stale cereal in a plastic dish, and put it on the table next to her porridge. I guess he’s a slow eater, as he’s had the same cereal for the past few months.
Recently, she announced it was Tiny Marshall’s birthday. This became a point of contention until she was exceptionally well behaved at school and I, for reasons best forgotten, needed to stall going home.
So, we went and got Tiny Marshall a birthday cake. I drew the line at party hats, and had a full on fight over refusing to buy him a present (seriously I’m not buying a toy, a toy; the recursive insanity was too much for me). When we got home, the dreaded and obligatory song was sung, candle lit and dutifully blown out, and cake was eaten. The cake being, I’m sure, the sole purpose for this charade – she really likes cake.
Two days later, she held up another plush toy and announced it was Baby Shark’s birthday….
Raising the Modern Fae 