The Maiden recently decided she wants to be a paleontologist when she goes up. Victory! Victory! I’m glad to see she’s starting to project longer-term interests. I’m especially glad that she no longer has her heart set on growing up to be a Disney Princess.
But would it really be so bad? The Princess thing, I mean. After, all, Disney Princesses are pretty, polite airheads
young ladies who dress in beautiful gowns and bat their eyes at handsome guys…kind of like me as a teenager, minus the pretty, polite, and beautiful gown parts. Besides, there are fringe benefits; in theory, marrying off my daughter to a nice, rich prince could land me in a cushy Florida condo for my nursing home years (although that didn’t work out too well for Cinderella’s stepmother, did it?).
I won’t let the good points fool me, however. My sense of self-preservation is screaming, “No! Never!” And for once, I agree. If my child grows up to be a Disney Princess, it will be over my dead body. Literally.
Let me explain. Mothers– and often, fathers– of Princesses simply don’t fare well. While some exceptions may exist (Mulan comes to mind), the majority of Princess parents are dead, or mentally disturbed, or or were dealt some similarly unpleasant fate.
Let’s look at the statistics, shall we?
- Cinderella: Real mother: dead. Real father: dead. Stepmother: disappointed, eyes pecked out by birds, or dead, depending on the version.
- Sleeping Beauty: Real mother: alive, but completely mute from her daughter’s christening, onward…a parting curse from Maleficent, perhaps? Real father: lush.
- Belle: Real mother: absent. Probably blown up by one of her dad’s crazy experiments. Real father: mad scientist; town laughingstock.
- Snow White: Stepmother: psychotic b****. Real parents: not mentioned; probably murdered by said psychotic b****.
- Ariel, the Little Mermaid: Real mother: dead. Real father: wimpy, floppy, half-fish.
- Jasmine: Real mother: absent. Real father: idiot who tries to marry her off to that creepy magician.
- Pocahontas: Real mother: dead. Real father: clueless.
And so it goes. If this trend still holds true, the Maiden’s Disney Princessification would have to involve the elimination of me, and possibly the Man.
But I’m no twitterpated cartoon mama. I’m armed with knowledge, power, and a stack of books suggesting a myriad of exciting careers which do not require the sacrifice of parents (although the parents’ pocketbooks are fair game). And if I fail– if the Maiden turns to the Pink Side and Disneyfies–I won’t go out without a fight. I’ll clobber the Princess Police with every field trip and science experiment kit I can get my hands on. They. Shall. Not. Pass!
The strain might permanently crack me, though. I’ll live out the rest of my life in a dark castle, eating apples and muttering crazy curses at a talking mirror. But I’ll have made my mark. When Princess Maiden becomes a movie, they won’t be able to pass over my existence. Brief mention isn’t much, but it’s better than banishment from the annals of Disney History.
And hey, being second-fairest in the land wouldn’t be all that bad, either.