I shuffled down the hall last Saturday morning to find Dalia peering out of our front windows on her tippiest toes. Joining in, I laid eyes on SpongeBob, Spiderman and Disney Princess bounce houses as they grew to full jumping capacity. 

"It's Block Party Day," she bellowed, jumping up and down. "Mommy, Mommy, can we please go outside and jump now?" 

I tried to reason with her by explaining that the jumpy houses were for later in the day (noon to be exact) so we'd have to wait.

 "But why, Mommy? Can we please go outside now?" she pleaded.

"How about you jump on your bed?" I bargained. Reluctantly, she bounced back to her room for a few harrowing stunts.

Fifteen minutes later she emerged.

"Is it time now, Mommy?" she asked with a sly grin.

My only hope was to implement a playbook of activities to fill the next few hours. We made Mickey Mouse pancakes and fresh smoothies. We whipped eggs, cut strawberries, even made homemade blueberry syrup. It wasn’t until a final trip to Target for last minute party supplies that a glorious nap in the car saved the day. 

At noon, the big event was unfolding -- and my sugar plum fairy was fast asleep.  Neighbors opened their doors, kids piled out, and everyone made their way into the decked-out street.

Thankfully, a knock at the door and a barrage of tiny children giggling through the living room woke her up. Her girlfriends had already decided it was time for the most important event of the day: dress-up! 

Dalia, Reese, Chloe and Parker dashed away to her bedroom like four little monkeys swinging from vines. I had assembled a semi-organized spread of costumes across Dalia’s bed. The girls quickly sifted, negotiated and made claim to dresses, crowns, and fancy shoes to put together the right look.

Guilty of eavesdropping, I managed to catch a moment of their lovable exchange.

"I'll be Sleeping Beauty."

"I'll be Belle!  Where’s my crown?"

"I don't have the crown."

"Oh, that's ok."

"You can wear the necklace." 

"Great, thanks."

"What about me? I want to be Snow White." 

"Sure, sure. Here you go." 

"I need the shoes. But, I only see one?" (Searching, searching.) 

"Where is it?"

"It's on your foot, silly!" 

"Parker, you be Tinker Bell."

"No, I want to be Cinderella, little fella!" (Laughing.)

"I'm not a fella."

"I know. You're a beautiful princess!" (Laughing more.)

Straight out of drama class, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Snow White, and Belle managed to materialize in fabulous style.

Scurrying playfully into the street, the princesses made their debut. The girls happily piled into the Princess Jumpy House. Arm in arm, they bounced and bopped until their little feet could jump no more.

The princess court finally rolled out and found their way to the crafts table to design tiaras. They bejeweled and bedazzled until their tummies rumbled for hot dogs and otter pops. They shared turns tearing up the streets in a 4-wheel drive Jeep, and later galloped off to a friend’s house for a costume change, oblivious to the water balloons whipping past them from the boys' target practice, or the adults occasionally acting like kids in the bouncy house.

The girls succeeded at turning a block party into a day of dress-up and adventure, in the way only little girls do.

In the morning, I opened the front door to find three gowns hanging on the porch. The etiquette for dress return must be early morning, so the princess of the house doesn’t remember they were missing. I gathered Snow White, Belle and Cinderella costumes and hung them ever so quietly in Dalia's closet.

Dalia sat up. "Good morning, Mommy. Can I put on my Belle costume?"