Little Princesses

Little Princesses      

By Kim Michael October 2, 2014      

         
               

Maddie is seven years old going on eight (as she likes to point out). She has long brown hair, the prettiest dark brown (almost black) eyes you have ever seen, a dog named Dawson, and next week is her birthday. Oh, and she is my grand daughter.

Kids are so much different from when I was growing up. At seven years old (going on eight) Maddie already has her career path plotted. She wants to be either a scientist (like her mom) or a princess.

Of course, she’s only seven and I suspect someday she will have to seriously re-think the whole scientist or princess thing. And for me, I am convinced the world already has too many scientists and clearly not enough princesses.  

As a matter of fact, I don’t think you can have too many little princesses in the world. You can never have too many tea parties on the ceiling, or frilly little dresses that come with magic wands filled with fairy dust, or sparkling tiaras that glow in the dark. And as far as I’m concerned, you can never have too many magic carriages drawn by white horses that are really mice, or fairy god-mothers who kiss you goodnight while you sleep.

And there is nothing like the sound of a little princess singing or laughing, or saying her prayers before she goes to sleep. Some things can never be more perfect than they already are.

No-- you have to savor the moments you have with little princesses and hold them close, because little princesses, like “happily-ever-afters” don’t last forever, and all too soon the day comes when the clock strikes twelve, the frilly little dress and tiara gets put in a box somewhere in the garage or the attic, the white horses turn back into mice... and the glass slipper no longer fits.

And that’s not a bad thing. Life goes on after all. But it seems to me, the world just turns a little slower after that happens.