So, several weeks ago, I go to get my scarf out of the coat closet and I find my sweet little girl’s princess dress, still on the hanger, mashed up into a ball and shoved under the scarf, along with the princess shoes that her loving brother bought her for Christmas with my very own money. I stunned by the cruelty of this disappearing act, as my dear, sweet daughter just loves, loves, loves the dress as it has Dora on it and she currently believes that she is Princess Dora based upon her haircut and head shape. And perhaps her mother suggesting something to that effect. Often.

I stand there and try to catch my breath from the shock, trying to figure out what cruel person had done such a thing, knowing quite well it wasn’t me, the loving brother or either of the cats although the cats would have done so if they had opposable thumbs as they are getting a tad tired of hearing ‘Kitty cat, kitty cat” screamed at them while they are being chased through the house although the throwing of treats by the bouncing child does seem to go a long way to mitigate their concern, at least for very brief periods.

I then realize that I haven’t recently seen the other princess dress or tutu that she had been given by wonderful friends and family in the past and come to the only logical conclusion – game on. We wait until the loving husband goes to play soccer and the search begins. Oddly, the other princess dress had made its way into the plastic pumpkin the kids use to go trick or treating. Now, that normally would have worked quite well if the pumpkin was at the bottom of a big trash can but considering it was sitting on a shelf, illuminated by a light, the effort could only rate a “almost pathetic” on the hiding scale.

We then find the tutu which only rated a “really, truly pathetic attempt” on the hiding scale as it was merely stuffed under a blanket in her closet, and then proceeded to make a go forward plan. First, we go upstairs and find designated hangers for the dresses and hang them prominently in her room. We then discuss the need for princess pants on a going forward basis as the princess has made the choice in the past to freeze her parts off rather than spoil the aesthetics of her look leading to her father's objection of the daily wearing of the princess dresses. Apparently, he does want to get her married off some day and having not frozen off some of one's parts does up the odds of this occurring so I'd say the objection is valid but, heck, might not be a bad thing when she is a teenager.

So, convincing the princess to wear pants was necessary and fortunately, absolutely simple. First, I explained that only princesses can wear pants that have horizontal stripes and pointed out by a tour of my closet that I, having gracefully aged out of the princess stage, have no garments with horizontal stripes because they make one look a bit like a chubby Dowager Empress who wants to visit the Willie Wonka factor in the very worst way and is just sadly living in that past dream. No, as everyone knows, horizontally stripped pants are merely for princesses.

We then find two pairs of princess pants with the required horizontal stripes in her dresser and she readily agrees that they are a necessary addition to her finery. she then decides to top off her look with the footwear of her choice. Golf shoes. Notthe princess ones her loving brother bought her for Christmas as they do seem to have been put in a "safe place" that rates as "pretty damn good" on the hiding scale. Now, the golf shoes may be one size too big but an impressive choice nonetheless as it appears she may have a fall back plan of trophy wife, golf pro or marketing executive if this princess thing doesn't work out.

But, for the last 14 or so days, it has apparently been good to be the princess.