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Jenna and Tracey
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Jenna has a problem. A huge problem that began the exact moment her daughter was born.
Tracy entered the world with bright blue hair, a suspicious amount of confidence, and what can only be described as Main Character Syndrome. Naturally, she also came equipped with a tragic backstory.
Jenna would like to point out that she is perfectly healthy, thank you very much, and therefore has absolutely no intention of dying tragically so her toddler can gain character development.
Unfortunately, Tracy has other plans.
She now runs around the house screaming, “I AM THE CHOSEN ONE!” while refusing diaper changes because apparently destiny waits for no toddler.
Then there’s the weapon.
A magic weapon.
A toddler-sized magic weapon that Tracy somehow acquired despite Jenna being reasonably certain she did not order one online.
And why does it glow gold?
More importantly, why can her two-year-old daughter swing it around like a seasoned warrior?
Jenna would have several questions if she weren’t currently watching Tracy defeat another horde of monsters before lunchtime.
Yes. Monsters.
Endless hordes of them.
Tracy apparently considers them a fun little morning activity. She defeats twelve, announces that evil has been vanquished, demands applesauce, and passes out for her nap.
Then there are the devotees.
Legions of them.
Jenna has tried explaining that Tracy is not a divine being.
Tracy disagrees.
The devotees disagree.
The glowing magic weapon definitely disagrees.
And somewhere in the background, another monster is roaring.
Jenna sighs, picks up the diaper bag, and prepares for another completely normal day of motherhood.
At least until Tracy points dramatically toward the horizon and screams:
“THE DARK LORD APPROACHES!”
Jenna closes her eyes.
“Please. For the love of everything. Can he wait until after nap time?”
Chosen one
