Pretty Pretty Princess(es)
I babysat a few months ago for a pair of pretty princesses (ages 6 and 4) while their parents went out to dinner to celebrate their 8th wedding anniversary.
We started with dinner. I was dipping Chick-Fil-A nuggets onto their plates when one of them noticed my nails. “Are those real?” she asked, coming in for a closer look.
“No,” I replied, referring to their very acrylic qualities.
“Can I have some?” she asked.
“You’ll have to ask your Mommy,” I said.
Once dinner was over, we took advantage of the gorgeous weather outside. Imagination abounded. We ran all over the yard, avoiding the crocodiles and “bad guys” that were after us. We used our magic powers to help each other escape from the quicksand that tried to hinder us. We interspersed all this with games of freeze tag, during which we adopted superhero names and traits.
We concluded the evening with a parade. The six-year-old led off, carrying a four-foot fishing net high and proud. Her four-year-old sister followed, boasting a flower pot with a prized rock inside. I was the caboose, grasping a singular clover. We marched around the yard, proudly displaying our items. (No doubt, we were a sight to see!)
Finally, it was time to start the bedtime routine. “Wait,” one protested, as I tried to herd them up the stairs. “I want to smell my rose one more time.”
Their dad got their mom roses to celebrate their anniversary, and he gave each daughter one, as well. I watched as she took a big waft and smiled contentedly. “What if a prince gave it to me,” she said with a dreamy look in her eye.
“One will someday,” I reassured her.
Sitting in their pink and purple room reading their bedtime story, I was transported back to a time when pink was my favorite color – and I wore it with pride giving no thought to the fact that it clashed with my hair.
I was only with those princesses for a few short hours. But during that time, they brought back years of girly memories. How more than anything I used to desire long, beautiful nails and a prince to bring me roses. Somewhere, during the last 28 years, I buried those longings– and lost my creative imagination. It was so fun to re-awaken those desires and feel like a pretty princess again.