With all the talk of Cinderella floating around thanks to the new movie in theaters, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to be the princess and the evil step mother like in a fairy tale.
As girls, we aspire to be the princess–saved from whatever horrible life we think we’re living, whisked away into the lap of luxury while our abusers get the swift kick in the ass that they deserve.
Once I got older, and especially after became a mom, I began to understand the evil step-mother’s point of view. These added years turned me into a split personality–waging an internal war between what my inner princess wants and what the evil stepmother deems more important.
“Oh, how I would love to go out with the girls tonight!” says the princess.
“Well that’s too damn bad, sweet cheeks, because you still have to scrub those floors!” the evil stepmother sneers.
“Hm, I wish I had something nicer than these rags to wear,” the princess muses.
“Don’t even think about spending money on yourself, you lazy ass. Get a job if you want to spend that cash on frivolous shit.”
“Oof, I’m so sick. Could someone just bring me a bowl of soup and let me rest?” the princess begs.
“HAH! Everyone else in the house vomited overnight and has explosive diarrhea. You’d better put on some depends if you don’t want to make a mess of your ratty underwear while you clean up everyone’s sick juice.”
“I’m so tired.”
“Can I just have a break?”
“Do this better!”
“Could someone else in this damn house lend a hand?”
“If by lend a hand you mean throw our trash on the floor and smear food on the walls then, we’ll lend two!”
And then, oh, sweet, blissful relief as Prince Charming rides in, to be the hero of the day and sweep the princess off her feet. She closes her eyes and stands on her toes in anticipation of his kiss and declaration of undying love and appreciation, and waits.
And she opens her eyes to see his shoes tossed in the hallway and lunch box dumped on the table, and she glimpses a wave as he disappears around the corner to shower alone.
So princess picks up the phone to have dinner delivered, and evil stepmother pours herself a drink.
Fairy godmother, thy name is Pizza Hut.
Jessica Cobb is obsessed with Pirates and the internet, and convinced that the dough is always better than the cookie, Jessica is an aspiring novelist who tries to write whenever her 4 kids give her the chance. Her blog, Domestic Pirate, is her soap box for fighting the stigma that motherhood is the end-all of a woman’s achievements, but she generally writes about whatever tickles her fancy. You can help fulfill her unending need for social media interaction by contacting her via Twitter at @DomesticPirate