"Oh no! We're dead! Aughablahgublah" I mimicked an exaggerated gurgle.
"Now I'm using my wand to bring you back!" she said, and waved the wizard in a circle.
"Okay I'm back. Thank goodness, I'm so glad to be alive again!"
"No," she corrected me, "You're not alive. You can't come back to life. You're an angel now."
I pause for longer than I would have liked, but not so long she noticed.
"Okay," I said, and lifted the princess up, swooping it forward and backward. "I'm an angel!"
Later we switched. She was the angel and I was another princess. I shook my little princess back and forth and made the princess ask the angel, "So you'll always be watching me right?"
She answered with a solemn "Yes."
She'll be 8 next month, this little girl. The daughter of my friend. The daughter of my friend who died of cancer.
Later still, we played the Pretend Game. The Pretend Game is where she says, "Pretend [action or scenario]!" and then all the grownups pretend the thing is true.
"Pretend you're asleep!" she told me, and I made snoring sounds while she gently tapped my head. "Pretend you're awake and you have no hair!"
I pretended to startle, pretended to yawn, pretended to notice my lack of hair.
"Look in the mirror!" she said. I held up the box from a board game and pretended to examine my reflection, then pretended to be shocked my hair was gone. "Pretend to be asleep again!" she said, and we grew and cut and grew and cut my hair over a dozen times.
Then she left me alone with my wine and my thoughts and I realized we'd been playacting the chemotherapy. The hair gone, then back (wigs), then gone again.
Fuck, man.