PINK SCALES AND GOLD-TIPPED WINGS

Three small hands reached for mine, taking turns. Three small girls with dancing feet, led me to our "home" at the end of the hallway where all our dragon treasure was piled to the ceiling. "Come on mama!" their voices chimed, calling me. 

"Can I be a mama dragon too?" asked the blue-eyed child, with brownie crumbs framing her mouth and speckling her polka-dot dress. 

"Nooo, M'riah's the mama dragon," whined the brown-eyed girl.

"Nora, you can be the mama dragon." I laughed, then turned to Ayla, "It's okay, I can be the grandma dragon instead." 

Ayla wasn't pleased, "I don't like this game anymore if you're not the mama dragon." 

"Alright," I said, "I guess Nora and I can both be the mama dragons." 

Nora's face lit up as she wiped at her face with a wrinkled napkin.

"Can I be the big sister dragon?" asked the hazel-eyed child, her blonde curls spilling onto her shoulders. 

"Of course, Hazel." 

"And I'm the baby dragon!" Ayla ran in circles, squealing like a happy bug.

Three small hands reached for mine, taking turns, as I spun them in my own to the end of the hallway.

Then a young boy, nearly as tall as I (but only six-years-old), snatched playfully at my bag. With his brown eyes wide and palms out, he pleaded, "Can I have another mint, please?" 

I reached into my bag and pulled out the little Georgia tin.

"You may. But remember these are magical mints and once you swallow one, you will turn into a dragon," I lowered my voice to a whisper, "and the only way to transform back into a human, is to have another mint." 

"I know." A smile took over his whole face. 

Today, I was a mama dragon with pink scales and gold-tipped wings.