The whole princess thing is gaining momentum with Seconda. I don’t love it but there’s not much I can do to stop it so I’m trying not make too much of a fuss. Up until now, the element of these stories that really fascinated Sec hasn’t been the prince or the romance but the evil characters. Most of the time she’s dressing up as the evil stepmother or Maleficient or Ursula, and I get it, completely. They are the only women in the stories who DO anything of interest. They are, in fact, incredibly powerful: they work magic, and wreak havoc and have a real impact. I’ve secretly been proud that she’s so into the evil villanesses and unconcerned with the princesses, who are, for the most part, big old ditzes.
But a few days ago, something changed. Sec walked over to me and said in an incredibly solemn voice:
“Mommy, will you marry me?”
“Will I marry you?” I repeated.
“Yes,” she repeated softly, gazing into my eyes, “Will you be my wife?”
I’m not sure where she’s got this from, since the fairytales we read and watch don’t cover this verbiage: no one really asks anyone to get married, it’s just a forgone conclusion seeing as how the prince saved the girl from a gruesome death.
But wherever she got it from, the question was pending, and I replied with the only possible answer: “Of course I’ll marry you.”
Then she ever-so-slowly brought her face to me and gave me a kiss.
Have I told you how affection-starved I am by my whirling dervish of a daughter? She almost never even accepts a kiss from me, much less offers one herself. She has literally WIPED OFF every kiss I’ve given to her for the past year. I was so heady from the affection that I found myself continuing the game by asking, “Seconda, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she said, absolutely breathless, “I will marry you Mommy. And now I will give you the kiss of love.”
Funny, I figured Sec would want to marry her Dad, since he more closely resembles Prince Charming and since she so clearly adores him and all. But no, she’s chosen me.
My sister came over this weekend, and witnessed one of our unending proposals of marriage. She, too, is utterly deprived of Seconda kisses and hugs, so she thought maybe she could get in on the action,
“Hey, Sec,” she ventured, “Will you marry me?”
‘I CAN”T MARRY YOU!” Sec shouted, chagrined, “I AM MARRIED TO MY MUDDER!”
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