When I was little, maybe seven or eight years old, I wanted to be the tightrope-walking cat from "Dumbo's Circus." So much was I wrapped into this fantasy life that I wore my ballet leotard, tights, and ballet shoes on a daily basis, and tied jump ropes between any trees I could find close enough to each other. Needless to say, I moved on, but I remember so badly wanting to be what I saw on television.
Hence, my daughter's obsession with Disney Princesses. It helps that it's near Halloween, so no one thinks Britton wears a princess dress daily. But, in all reality, she does. Even if I convince her to wear real clothes to school, she's stripping her clothes off the minute she hits the door when we get home, in desperate search for her next Disney princess dress fix. My house is covered in glitter. So covered that I no longer bother trying to clean it up.
And she wants the hub to answer to "Prince" exclusively. And waltz endlessly across the family room, just like all the other princes do. It's cute, though. And reminds me daily that a girl's first love is her father.
Snow White for Halloween? Of course. Tiana on the television screen? Of course. Has she changed her mind from Snow White to Cinderella back to Snow White then to Belle but no to Belle because the Belle dress is too big back to Snow White? Hundreds of times this week. Just one of the beautiful dreams and delusions of childhood!
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