Tinker Bell Stole My Credit Card

Here’s a piece of information that won’t shock anyone who knows me or who has read any part of my Faerietales series, starting with the first few chapters of Book 1: “Not So Human.”

I like Tinker Bell. A lot.

I mean, I intentionally created my main character Sabrina to look like Tinker Bell, va-va-voom curves and all.

Back at my apartment, I have Tinker Bell mugs, glasses, throw blankets and a lamp. I named my new flash drive Tinker Bell (for which my family gave me much-deserved grief), and I even have Tinker Bell pillowcases and t-shirts, both of which are safely tucked away in my closet.

I have to draw the maturity line somewhere, and at 32 years old, I figure having cartoon characters on my bed or torso is a bit too much.

Why do I love the pint-sized pixie so much? Well, mainly because she’s a sassy little minx (other less polite words might suffice here as well) who says and does whatever she wants to. Sometimes, I wish I could just tell people what I’m thinking so blatantly too.

Sadly though, my mama taught me to be polite and considerate of other people’s feelings. Drat.

Anyway, I’m mentioning all of this because, this week, I’m going to be down in Orlando, Florida… at Disney World! And therefore, I will be surrounded by Tinker Bell paraphernalia galore.

I’m telling myself that I won’t buy anything. I don’t need it to begin with, and how am I going to fit it all into my suitcase anyway?

That’s my logical side saying all of that. And yes, believe it or not, Tinker Bell fanatics can have logical sides. Remember: I don’t actually wear my Tinker Bell shirts out in public any more.

Unfortunately for my wallet, I also have an illogical side… which is telling me that it’s humanly impossible to resist such concentrated amounts of adorable sass. Maybe faeries like Sabrina can resist such siren calls, but I’m just too weak.

And then there’s my very illogical side. That’s formulating even more ridiculous excuses to go nuts down at Disney. So far, this is my favorite one:

It wasn’t my fault: Tinker Bell stole my credit card!

Dratted pixie.