Disney’s secret public service

Ever been on a class field trip with a bunch of eight year olds? (I mean, when you weren’t eight yourself)?

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH TRUTH YOU JUST SAID.

I don’t ban Disney Princesses for my daughter (now age nine), but I do ask her: “Why the heck would you want to marry a guy who can only recognize you using a **shoe**?? He can’t remember your name, doesn’t know your face, and you’d want to marry him? Why? Because he has a title and a horse? Why not just go to university, get your own title, and buy your own horse? At least then you’d have a skill other than, I don’t know, cleaning out fireplaces, doing strange things with pumpkins, and listening to mice make lame excuses for being late!”

Okay, so that’s not really a question. I’m a mom, and moms make statements. When we ask questions, we already know the answers and we’re just giving you the opportunity to confess.

My kid loves Dr Who, she has memorized the dialogue for “X-Men: First Class,” and she thinks she’s a Klingon. Sure, she has Disney Princess paraphernalia, but it’s sitting between a pile of comic books and her Star Trek cosplay gear, somewhere near a bag of beheaded Barbie dolls. My work here is done.