Skip to main content

Her Royal Highness



I'm sure somewhere in the vast universe which is the Disney corporation, there is a tally board which records the number of preschool girls who have been snared by the great Princess Marketing Machine...in any case, that number just increased by one Phoebe.

Our house is a veritable treasure trove of Princess Stuff ("Look at this stuff, isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?" sings Ariel, not-so-subliminally planting the message that princesses have lots of little things!) -- dolls big and small, tshirts, toothbrushes (which Phoebe calls her Sleeping Beauty Brush-Teeth), cups, spoons, diapers, Playdoh, markers, sleeping bags, and so forth. It can all be a bit overwhelming. "I want to play with Ariel number four!" Phoebe told me yesterday. "Um, okay," I said, and I handed her the Ariel Barbie doll. "That's not number four!" Phoebe wailed. I offered the Ariel Polly Pocket figure. "Noooo!" Finally I found the Ariel Zizzler doll and Phoebe was appeased. Whether these numbers will remain constant is yet to be seen.

Phoebe must also be dressed as a princess at all times now. No pants, no shorts, and even the little knit dresses of which we have an overabundance are not quite princessy enough, unless paired with sparkly shoes. Getting dressed in the morning has become quite a challenge; if only I could hire a flock of bluebirds -- a la Cinderella -- to perform the job!

Phoebe's conversations are, of course, now sprinkled with princess-isms. For a while she was routinely addressing me as "Fairy Godmother," as in, "I want some juice, Fairy Godmother!" Guess it beats being the Wicked Stepmother. Last night I asked if she were ready for bed and she said, "No...are you ready for the ball?" We also hear lines of dialogue cropping up here and there: "My father is going to kill me!" (Ariel); "What is that girl up to now?" (Sebastian); "It's more than I ever dreamed!" (Cinderella). More fancifully, she conducted this this conversation between Ariel Number Four and a Jasmine doll of unspecified rank: "This is my boyfriend! I got him from Disney." I cringed at that, but then relaxed a bit at the next line: "My boyfriend really respects me!"

I'm not sure where that came from, but I'm hoping it's the message that sticks.

Comments

aimee said…
Wow. Ariel number 4. Ha!! You must have so much fun, I say, while sweeping up sand from my floor and taking rocks out of pockets and even trying to look interested at the dead worms they find on the sidewalk...
7:12 PM
H Noble said…
I am rolling at this! 'Jasmine doll of unspecified rank'! Ha!

I just can't imagine raising a little princess, or two!

And Aim- I found a dead worm in Eli's room, and I KNOW he is too young to have had a hand in it. ;)
Holly
3:52 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Merry Christmas to Joey, too!

Scene: After the Christmas pageant. Me: You did great, Mallory, we're proud of you! Mallory: What was your favorite part? Me: Hmm. I liked the "Whatcha Gonna Call That Baby?" song. Chris: I liked that one too. Me: But I also liked "Joy to the World." Mallory: Joey in the world? What's that? Me: No, joy to the world, the song you just sang. Mallory: Oh yeah. Me: That's one of my favorite songs. Phoebe: A favorite song is a song that's your favorite and you like it and you sing. (Pause) Phoebe: And you dance. Mallory, before the show, in front of our haphazardly decorated Christmas tree. Phoebe declined to be photographed. All I was able to photograph of the event itself: Phoebe, objecting to the camera's flash: Now she closes her eyes before I snap every picture. Sigh. But she's cute anyway! And so is Mallory! And their dresses match! We're thinking Arby's: Okay, that's it! Recently read: The Golden Compass and The Subtle Knife . ...
2 comments
Read more

It's what's for dinner

One of the things that I failed to appreciate about my mom until I left home is that she always made dinner (although I think we called it supper then), by which I mean, something hot, usually involving a vegetable. I don't remember my mom ever saying sheepishly to her hungry spouse and offspring, "I don't feel like cooking, how about a bowl of cereal?" I hate making dinner. Haaate it. It's my least favorite chore. It's not necessarily because I can't cook. I can usually manage to create something edible, although I have yet to perfect the science of getting, say, the chicken and the broccoli and the rice and the rolls all ready at the same time. (There are those among you who may be surprised that I make and serve broccoli. It's true! It's best when roasted: Toss with olive oil and salt, spread on a baking sheet, put in 400 degree oven for about 8 minutes. It's delicious! Delicious as broccoli can be, at least.) It's also not necessarily t...
6 comments
Read more

Little sisters

Mallory was invited for a sleepover tonight; this morning, as she was packing her suitcase, Phoebe came in and said, "Me too!" When Chris found her suitcase, and gently told her that she wasn't invited to the sleepover, she cried for an hour. I think I'll always have a special sort of sympathy for Phoebe, my second child, because I was the second child too*. (And it's odd, because although I have younger siblings as well, I always think of myself as a little sister, or as the younger older sister, if that makes sense. I think that's because Jana, my big sister, was so good at being the oldest, responsible and, uh, authoritarian, and I am, well, fundamentally irresponsible. We all bowed to her! In a good way. I could never live up to that.) I often feel sorry for Phoebe, left behind while Mallory goes to school all day, because I well remember the long, lonely boring days I spent waiting for Jana to come home from school (not counting the days I spent playing i...
3 comments
Read more