“Are you a princess, Momma?” That’s what my youngest
asked me the other day because I was wearing a skirt I
bought to celebrate my weight-loss. He’s now my
He’s also pretty bright. Surely he must recognize the pattern of the skirt is one that dates back to medieval times. Maybe I really am a princess. Skirt or not, I’ve been a princess once before in the eyes of my other son when he was a toddler.
This celebration of the “middle ages” can be a real ego boost to a parent. It’s a time when a girl worships her father, the hero, and a boy places his mother on a pedestal so high…the thin air can go straight to her head.
Naturally, I tried to fish for more comments from my son. “Why do you think Momma is a princess, honey?”
“Because you have a pretty skirt…and I have pickles in my tummy.”
Okay, so maybe he’s so bright we can’t quite follow his logic. I’m just going to pretend it all makes sense. After all, I am living a fairytale come true.
Not only did I marry a rather charming prince of a guy but I also have several dwarves that I look after and they can, at anytime, be easily identified as Hungry, Sleepy, Cranky, Whiney and Who-me.
Many is the time that I have cooked and cleaned and scoured and worked my fingers to the bone just to start all over again because the evil step-sisters (the roles played by my children) seem to think this is what I was put on this earth to do.
And how long do their noses have to grow before they realize I can see right through their fibs? Sometimes, no matter how much I love my kiddos and kiss them up, they can be real toads.
Is there a happy ending? Of course, there is and it doesn’t involve me taking them into the woods and leaving them there, hoping they haven’t left a trail of breadcrumbs that they can follow back home.
The kids won’t be like this forever. They’re going to grow up and one day they will be keeping their own castles and chasing their own dwarves.
And I will be the Queen Grandmother overseeing the fruits of my labor…and the curse I placed on my children when they were young and causing me grief…when I wished for them to grow up and have children that behave just like they do.
Oh, I can’t wait to see it! No doubt it will be a happy ending for me.
“Grandkids, grandkids, short and tall, who’s the fairest of us all?”
“Why you, Queen Grandma, because you have a pretty skirt…and we have pickles in our tummies.”