My daughter has finally succumbed to the princess syndrome. I've been wondering when it would happen, and it has. I can see the days and weeks stretching ahead of us where EVERYTHING will be focused on pink and purple and stars and glitter and magic. Before having a daughter I always believed that I was far too practical a person to enjoy this, but now that it's here, I find myself just as excited as she is. Who knew?
Peering out our bedroom window at a beautiful rainbow across the cornfield yesterday, she informed me that it was "her" rainbow.
"Mine a p'incess, Mummy. Dat my 'ainbow." Yes. Yes it IS, little one.
This morning she gleefully chose to wear a pretty turquoise sundress and she wanted her hair tied up in a smart-little-p'incess-knot and she was so delighted with the world you could see the sparkles in the air and butterflies and sweet little birds chirping all around her.
Then she twirled around in a circle and stopped abruptly with an impatient stamp of her foot because her dress did not change into a proper princessy dress nor did a crown appear on her head.
"Mine NOT a p'incess, Mummy. Not work!"
It's possible we may have watched a DVD in which Dora turns into a princess, complete with hair growing magically to her ankles, one too many times.
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