By LEE SCOTT
In a recent gathering with friends, one of the topics that came up involved tiaras. Each woman began to describe the tiaras they wore when they were young.
Some of the tiaras were for prom dances or worn with their princess costumes; and one woman said she had a small tiara for her wedding. That is when I chimed in “I have never had a princess crown, nor did I ever pretend to be a Princess.”
I explained to the group that I was brought up with a brother, one year older, who pretty much dictated our play for years. My mother said she knew there would be trouble with us very early.
It started when he was about 2 years old and I was around one. He climbed out of his crib and pushed the lever to slide my railing down so I could get out. She heard a noise and found us playing with some toys on the floor between the cribs.
My mother said my brother was just waiting for the day he would have a playmate and that day was the beginning of our shenanigans.
Believe me, when you have a brother so close in age, there is no room for Princess crowns. We played in puddles, made mud pies, and climbed trees. My two older sisters were the little princesses in the family. They wore matching dresses and had their hair permed. My mother could not get me to sit still long enough to ever perm my hair. They loved to dress up in their Holy Communion Dresses and put little crowns in their hair.
It was somewhere during my non-princess story, my friend Cindy decided, it was time I had a crown.
A few days after the gathering Cindy showed up with a tiara for me.
“Every girl should have a tiara sometime in her life!”
She is right. Nowadays, it seems like every little girl is a Princess. Disney has created a world of little princesses with more than 12 Disney Princesses from which to choose.
There were only Cinderella and Snow White when I was little, and I do not remember wanting to be like either of them. After all, I had to do chores like Cinderella. And I compared my seven siblings to Snow White’s seven dwarfs. Forget the crown.
After Cindy left my house, I dressed up in a long white dress, put on my tiara and asked my husband to take a picture.
“Why?” he asked.
I just wanted to have evidence, that once in my life, I was dressed like Cinderella.
After a childhood of being the girl with the ashes on my clothes, I finally looked like I was going to the ball.
