As a little girl I loved several things: Bologne and Cheese, “How the Grinch Stole Christmas”, rainbow colored plastic accessories, my teddy bear named “Loopy”, and like most other little girls, the occasional Disney movie style fairytale.
Since most fairy tales don’t come with sequels to explain what “happily ever after” means, I was mostly left to my own imagination. This led to a highly romanticized version of events that should probably be avoided for future generations, including my daughter.
Now that my Prince has found me via Match.com, swept me away in his black Nissan Altima, and made me his princess, I think I might have a little insight into the elusive fairy tale epilogue.
Well little girls, please grab your favorite carpet square and sit quietly in a circle, because this princess would love to give you a taste of what “happily ever after” really means:
:)
When a prince and princess love each other very much, they get married and live together in a beautiful castle. Life in the castle is wonderful. Each morning the princess wakes to the glorious rays of the sun to be surrounded by her animal friends who whisk her out of bed (with their shrill “feed me”, “water me”, and “let me out to pee” meows and barks). To her delight, throughout the day she finds her prince, thinking only of her, has left her several lovely gifts:
Gift #1: little yellow droplets all over the throne.
There is nothing more exciting as you rush to the bathroom after hours of holding your sleep pee (especially when there’s a little princess in your belly) than finding the end result of your prince’s shaky shake drying method all over the seat. If your prince is like mine, he will try to convince you that he did NOT pee on the seat, and rather the “water pressure” in the toilet must have kicked up the little droplets as it swirled toward the hole. Do NOT believe this. After several months of Magnum PI style investigation, I have witnessed firsthand my husband stumbling to the bathroom half awake, to lean one arm against the wall, finish his business, and let the dragon flail. I’m fairly sure the dragon’s poor aim, and not the innocent toilet water is to blame.
Gift #2: an empty toilet paper roll, where a full one once lived.
Oh, what a treat. Clearly the prince’s 45 minute session locked in the bathroom last night did not leave him time to make the 20 second jaunt down the hall to grab a full roll. Apparently THAT time was better spent perusing the “hometown hotties” article in his new Maxim. That’s fine, I mean I personally feel there’s no better way to start your day than a seated shaky shake dance followed by the thighs together shuffle to the toilet paper closet. It really sets the tone for the day.
Gift #3: the remnants of his shaving stubble upon the vanity!
Glorious! Such a thoughtful gift! Luckily in our castle, the prince and princess have separate vanities so that the princess doesn’t gag every time she needs to wash her hands, or put on makeup in the morning. This princess also doesn’t clean her prince’s shower for fear of finding the remnants of his “manscaping”. That *might* set me over the edge.
Gift #4: Empty cans or glasses of ale, left throughout the castle.
This precious gift can be found after the prince has some of his friends over. Any princess who’s been to a bachelor pad or fraternity house is well aware that princes lack the awareness that empty beer cans belong in the trash can, not on the floor/tv stand/coffee table/back of the toilet/etc. Unfortunately, they also apparently lack the ability to throw them away. After the prince and his brother had a fun night of video game playing and beer drinking, I opened the door to the man cave and swore by the scent that I’d opened a friggin’ time portal to a frat party afterhours.
Gift #5: Magazines that do not belong in a princess’s castle
We have a guest bathroom. In that guest bathroom there is a magazine rack that typically holds our “classier” subscriptions like “Wine Spectator”,“Town and Country”, “Business Week”, etc. (I don’t know why they’re in there. It’s not like I think someone is going to come over to my house and make the kind of transaction in my guest bathroom that would necessitate a magazine to read. Nonetheless, I like to keep them in there.) What I don’t love is finding my husband’s wrinkled/crinkled/waterlogged Maxim hiding among its more educated friends. Believe me, I love that girl from “how I met your mother”, but the last thing the manatee needs right now is to stumble upon a magazine with the girl scantily clad on the cover alongside a headline that reads “no fail - no strings sex with your ex”. Eww. I’m pretty sure “happily ever after” means no more curiously flipping through the pages of THAT mag. That activity was reserved for your time as a maiden, waiting on your friends to finish their business with their boyfriends at the fraternity house, while avoiding the stare of a creepy love starved drunk dude.
Gift #6: The scent of a prince
Ahhh, my favorite gift. This is the gift that first gave this princess the assurance I lived with a prince. It was a Tuesday morning shortly after we moved in together. My prince had made a delicious pot of chili the night before. We enjoyed the chili, then giggling, snuggled into bed together. OUR bed, yaaay! I spent the rest of the night tossing and turning in the 1x1 foot square of bed space that was left over after the prince made himself comfortable. When the alarm went off I decided that I should go pee pee and take a nice relaxing bath to relieve the muscle pain of being curled up fetal style all night. Roughly 20 minutes later I heard my husband rise from the dead and hop in the shower. “Hurray!” I thought. “I can get out of the tub and stretch out in the bed all by myself!”. So I got out of the tub, dried off quickly, ran and jumped face first horizontally into our comfy queen sized bed. My face landed on his side.
There are a couple facts I’d like you to take note of here:
1. My husband had eaten chili the night before
2. He’d been left alone in the bed for several minutes before I arrived
3. I flopped onto the bed FACE DOWN landing roughly where he had been laying
Now, for those of you princesses who have lived a “happily ever after”, you might be aware of what came next. I, being new to the fairytale had no warning of what I was about to experience:
A scent so powerful, I was fairly certain Satan himself had hosted a rotten onion eating contest and emerged from the pits of hell to release his toxic fumes into our sheets. It was so potent I immediately teared up and started gagging. Really GAGGING. The worst part was that the scent also rendered me momentarily paralyzed, so I was left to lay there motionless, praying for God to let me survive.
Nothing I have EVER produced (even with the help of my little princess) could hold a candle… err a match… to that abomination.
So, to the other princesses of the land, I would recommend having Clorox wipes/trash bags ready, extra rolls hidden behind the bathroom curtains, and a VERY carefully restricted diet for your prince. Also be weary of his dragon. It has the magic power to turn you from fair maiden into bitter manatee.
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