This is the fairy tale that should have been read to us when we were little girls:
Once upon a time in a land far away, a beautiful, independent, self-assured princess happened upon a frog as she sat contemplating ecological issues on the shores of an unpolluted pond in a verdant meadow near her castle.
The frog hopped into the princess’ lap and said: “Elegant Lady, I was once a handsome prince, until an evil witch cast a spell upon me. One kiss from you, however, and I will turn back into the dapper, young prince that I am and then, my sweet, we can marry and set up housekeeping in your castle with MY mother, where you can prepare my meals, clean my clothes, bear my children, and forever feel grateful and happy doing so.”
That night, as the princess dined sumptuously on lightly sauteed frog legs seasoned in a white wine and onion cream sauce, she chuckled and thought to herself:
I don’t feying think so.
AMEN SISTER- Instead, we have all these princes “rescuing” their princessess. Kiss me so my feet don’t turn into a mermaid tail, kiss me so I can come out of this coma and move out of the dwarves place, kiss me so I can come out of this sleep after pricking my finger, and don’t even get me started on Disney’s portrayal of indigenous women, Pocahontas- yeah- that’s how it happened.
Toys R Us has us buying our daughters play vacuums and shopping carts, and even a two year old’s blue jeans are “low rise” preventing her from climbing on the monkey bars or swinging without them falling down.
Could you hold my hair while I barf?