But one year Mom decided I should just go without the mask. So she did my make up and she put a beauty mark on my face with a eyebrow pencil. The love of the glamour of the princess was born!
I still have my dress she made me when I was five. I'm sure I wore it until the seams popped. Every year she'd make me a tin foil crown and a wand made from glittered pipe cleaner. Yep, I rocked the princess.
Even today, at the age of forty, I searched Disneyland for a Merida sweatshirt in my size. I stood in line to meet her until my boys gave out on me. (Okay... mommy gave up after 20 minutes and the line didn't move. I couldn't see forcing them to stand there so their mommy could have a picture with the princess...but they would have.)
|Costume in a box|
So I'll go about being the Princess in my house (because Queens are usually old and grumpy.) I will still dress up when I want to be glamorous and pretend I'm Princess Diana, Grace Kelley, or Kate Middleton. I will walk in parades (usually in my karate uniform) and I will wave as though you've all gathered to see me in my pretty dress...um black belt. I will still put the crown on top my Christmas tree, call myself a Warrior Princess, and live happily ever after with my very own Prince Charming. And this summer, on my forty-first birthday, I will still search for a Merida sweatshirt, and maybe by then they'll have them.
Until then, I'll keep digging through all my old, unsorted pictures until I find some of me dressed as a fairy princess and I'll remember my Cinderella mask with the eyes cut out.