“Where’s Ma Skye?” I ask, shrugging off the shirt and looking at my back. “And how do I get my wings back? Or am I stuck in this form?” “You should be able to shift with some practice,” Doris says. “We’ll work on it—" “AFTER we do this!” Skye says, coming straight through the wall with a ratty looking notebook in her hands. On the cover is a picture of a neon colored tiger, and it’s covered in glitter. “A… neon glitter tiger?” I say, confused. “I don’t think I’ve got that form…” “Nooooo, this!” she says, flipping open the cover. The words “My Perfect Family Vacation” are drawn in bubble letters on the first page. They’re a lot smaller at the bottom, since she ran out of room with the word “Perfect.” She’s grinning like a loon and shoving it towards them. “We have to do this! It’s my ultimate, life-long, FOREVER DREAM!” she exclaims. I… okay, well, see, I’m positive that none of my new moms had a very good childhood. Doris summed it up once in a very calm manner, but… “You’ve never been on a family vacation?” I ask. “Wellll… I went into outer space to save Emily, once!” she says. “And I went to the super villain summer camp! But that’s not the same, right? This time I’ll be the PARENT! And I can look back and threaten to come back there, or turn the car around! That’ll be fun!” Doris takes the notebook, flipping to the next page. “Okay… yeah… really?” she says, reading over each of the lists. “I can understand the show in Vegas… but we’ve already had dinner with aliens before.” “But we haven’t hosted the dinner! There’s a difference!” Skye insists. “That’s because only Ursule can cook,” Ariel says, floating over to read over Doris’s shoulder. “Oh, I want to sail a pirate ship! Let’s do that one!” “We’re going to do ALL of them!” Skye says. “And we’re going to do it while driving around in a Winnebago!” I grab the notebook, flipping through it for a long moment while trying to figure out how to put it. I mean, sure, we CAN do a lot of this stuff… but it means unleashing the Deadly Darlin’s on the entire United States, doesn’t it?