Princess fatigue

‘Tell me a story’ begs Little Miss.

‘Ok, once upon a time there was a dog and three chooks and they lived at the top of a mountain.’

‘No, Mummy . It has to have a Princess in it.’

‘Why?’

‘It has to have a Princess. And a Prince and a Queen and King and a wicked witch.’

I groan. MUST I tell this tired story again?

I’m suffering Princess fatigue.  The whole Princess thing is so two centuries ago – wicked witch causes no end of trouble for Princess (but sadly never quite manages to kill her – those witches need some training), enter handsome Prince who kisses Princess and brings her back from the brink of death (mores the pity), delighted King & Queen host a meringue and roses wedding and we all live happily ever after.

Yeah. Like that happens.

I mean, my marriage is exactly like that – all swoony romps through the forest on the back of a white stallion as I cling to his bulging biceps and washboard stomach. Yeah, every day he just sweeps me off my feet with his romantic farts, whining and bad dress sense. And I just sail through my day, singing joyously of our love as I swat away friendly singing birds and clean and dust and I never, never get grumpy or dirty.

Yeah. I’m a Princess, he’s a Prince and marriage is just like it is in the fairytales.

I could shatter Little Miss’s illusions and say, ‘Honey, it’s not really like that.  You are not going to live happily ever after just because you get married. Men are not Princes. They are men. They might act like Princes for about 3 months, a year if you’re lucky, but some bitchy witch will turn them back into a man and before you can say boo you will be screaming at him and rolling your eyes, just like I do with Daddy.’

I can imagine the reaction. She’d be staring at me, confused.

‘Actually Daddy is more like a Princess and I’m more like a Prince because I manage the royal coffers, organise the royal roster, stock the royal kitchen  while he gets to throw his arm over his brow and sigh weakly at the end of the day as he sinks into the couch with a beer declaring he simply cannot go on without a dose of TV.’

There would be more staring and blinking, which would give way to a ‘you’re just joking with me’ grin. ‘No Mummy. That’s not what Princesses do.’

Yeah. Sure. That’s not what Princesses do. And the world is pink. And I am living happily ever after. And Walt Disney has a lot to bloody answer for.

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Margareta
    Feb 27, 2010 @ 04:07:34

    Love it Kate. I am so over Princesses too, although its only because I’m jealous!

    Reply

  2. Margareta
    Feb 27, 2010 @ 04:06:27

    Love it Kate. Am so over Princesses too. Although it’s probably because I’m jealous.

    Reply

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