Snow White and the Wicked Witch

"Mama, come help us make a movie," my ten-year-old daughter said.

"Huh?" I said.  "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, and we'll show you."

I went downstairs into the kitchen and saw my son with some kind of white scarf tied around his head.  I also saw a bike helmet loaded with fruit, topped by an apple that had a bite taken out of it.

"We're filming Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.  Only we don't have seven dwarfs so we're just doing the part where Snow White eats the poison apple."

I looked at my son.

I looked at my daughter.

"Okay.  Which one of you is Snow White?"

"I am," said my daughter.  "Can't you tell?"

So they attempted to enact the play, but inevitably my son would bust out laughing.

"Mama, you be the witch," my daughter said exasperated.

Just then my husband walked in the room.  He overheard the conversation.  "Yeah," he said.  "Mama would be a good witch, and she wouldn't even have to act!"

So I played the part of the witch, and I did it perfectly.  He's right - I am a good witch!