"A Fairy Tale Princess in the Real World" by A. Craig Newman
Writer's Notes:
The prompt here was to write something fairy tale related. This one was easy because it actually happened much like I describe here. There is a spot where I take a little liberty and have some fun. Let's see if you can find it. -ACN
The prompt here was to write something fairy tale related. This one was easy because it actually happened much like I describe here. There is a spot where I take a little liberty and have some fun. Let's see if you can find it. -ACN
"I'm a princess!" my 8-year-old cousin, Heather, told me. She stood before me in all of her royal finery (which consisted of a Disney sleeping gown with a princess hat and flowing veil), twirling and twirling, so I could oooh and aahh and tell her that she was so beautiful. I spoke my lines dutifully, but I felt a horror inside. As she twirled, I pictured her ten years in the future, an adult woman believing she can be a fairy tale princess in the real world. What would life be like for someone who paid too much attention to what fairy tales teach?
All fairy tale princesses are extremely beautiful and completely helpless to get out of some peril. They spend the time that they are trapped in the tower/castle/spell dreaming of the handsome, young, brave prince who will come and save them from their predicament. At which point, "they live happily ever after."
I picture Helpless-Princess Heather being trapped in a convertible with its top down. She will search a computer keyboard for the "any" key every time she gets an error. Opening a jar of pickles will be an obstacle of epic proportions. What accomplishments will she have to speak of at a job interview? I picture a dumbfounded CEO staring quizzically while Heather - wearing a torn and tattered version of her Disney sleeping gown that I know my mind is adding solely for comic effect - proudly boasts, "Well, yesterday I successfully set my alarm clock. Tomorrow, I'm going to try to program the VCR."
I see a woman who spends her days staring wistfully out of a window and singing "One Day My Prince Will Come." It would be anyone's guess as to from where this prince would be coming. Fairy tale princesses never have to do anything to get a man - the men, all handsome and polished, just show up at their doorstep one day. Heather will get tired of singing that god-awful song to the bluebirds on her window sill and will eventually just start shouting at men who happen to pass by, "IS IT YOU? ARE YOU MY PRINCE? WHY ARE YOU RUNNING AWAY?" Maybe she'll be bold and meet men online. Not having the life experience of a fruit fly, she will cling to any guy who pays her the slightest bit of attention. Every peck on the cheek will be the Love of Heather's Life. God forbid he should bring flowers! Her bags will be packed and she will be ready to move in before the date is over.
Then what - they live happily ever after? How does any "they" ever get to live happily ever after without the use of constant medication? I do not know of any couple living happily every moment of every day of their lives. Living groggily every morning, impatiently every rush hour, or hungrily every meal time - these are people I know. Every couple I know has arguments and "living happily" is certainly not the phrase to describe those situations. The only picture I can conjure up of Helpless Heather and her one-date-and-I-married-him husband is that he goes from being her saving prince to her personal manservant. After all, princesses don't work.
In a blink, I'm back watching my 8-year-old cousin twirl. Heather stops and gives me a hug good night. I hold her and whisper in her ear, "The Easter Bunny is a lie and Santa Claus is dead." She looks at me with shock, her lip trembles, and tears begin to form in her eyes. "Also, your mother is the Tooth Fairy and princesses are helpless idiots." With a wail, she runs away from me, seeking out her mother and the safety of now-shattered lies. I smile to myself, knowing I have done future Heather and her non-prince husband a big favor.
All fairy tale princesses are extremely beautiful and completely helpless to get out of some peril. They spend the time that they are trapped in the tower/castle/spell dreaming of the handsome, young, brave prince who will come and save them from their predicament. At which point, "they live happily ever after."
I picture Helpless-Princess Heather being trapped in a convertible with its top down. She will search a computer keyboard for the "any" key every time she gets an error. Opening a jar of pickles will be an obstacle of epic proportions. What accomplishments will she have to speak of at a job interview? I picture a dumbfounded CEO staring quizzically while Heather - wearing a torn and tattered version of her Disney sleeping gown that I know my mind is adding solely for comic effect - proudly boasts, "Well, yesterday I successfully set my alarm clock. Tomorrow, I'm going to try to program the VCR."
I see a woman who spends her days staring wistfully out of a window and singing "One Day My Prince Will Come." It would be anyone's guess as to from where this prince would be coming. Fairy tale princesses never have to do anything to get a man - the men, all handsome and polished, just show up at their doorstep one day. Heather will get tired of singing that god-awful song to the bluebirds on her window sill and will eventually just start shouting at men who happen to pass by, "IS IT YOU? ARE YOU MY PRINCE? WHY ARE YOU RUNNING AWAY?" Maybe she'll be bold and meet men online. Not having the life experience of a fruit fly, she will cling to any guy who pays her the slightest bit of attention. Every peck on the cheek will be the Love of Heather's Life. God forbid he should bring flowers! Her bags will be packed and she will be ready to move in before the date is over.
Then what - they live happily ever after? How does any "they" ever get to live happily ever after without the use of constant medication? I do not know of any couple living happily every moment of every day of their lives. Living groggily every morning, impatiently every rush hour, or hungrily every meal time - these are people I know. Every couple I know has arguments and "living happily" is certainly not the phrase to describe those situations. The only picture I can conjure up of Helpless Heather and her one-date-and-I-married-him husband is that he goes from being her saving prince to her personal manservant. After all, princesses don't work.
In a blink, I'm back watching my 8-year-old cousin twirl. Heather stops and gives me a hug good night. I hold her and whisper in her ear, "The Easter Bunny is a lie and Santa Claus is dead." She looks at me with shock, her lip trembles, and tears begin to form in her eyes. "Also, your mother is the Tooth Fairy and princesses are helpless idiots." With a wail, she runs away from me, seeking out her mother and the safety of now-shattered lies. I smile to myself, knowing I have done future Heather and her non-prince husband a big favor.
