I have to say, I'm a little bit bummed about the whole thing. Yeah, I want the prince to be happy but, really, he couldn't wait for me?!? I had girlhood fantasies about being the next Grace Kelly...without the whole car-crash-death thing. He was uber-sexily-older (by about 18 years) and lived (gasp) on the Mediterranian...my favorite of the seas! Of course then I met my
I could totally be a princess. I could jet-set my way around the world. I could have a serious shoe fetish. Ahhh, I can just imagine the shoes I would wear. Red spiky heels, strappy sandals, diamond encrusted, hand-made leathers...but I digress. I could have a team of people to spray on my tan instead of waiting for the sun to kiss my skin (that seems to take longer and longer every year!). Editors might even take a book by Princess Kristina much more seriously than a book by li'l ole, plain-jane Kristi.
Of course, being a princess means that - like Princess Mia of Disney fame - I could never, ever again say, "Shut up!", in that sarcastic voice because...well, people would take that too seriously. I'd have to get out of my pajamas before 8am, always wear make up, always have my hair coiffed just so. The paps might grab a pic of my not-so-firmed areas as I exit the surf in the summer...nobody needs to see that! I wouldn't be able to rescue just any old dog from the pound, my pets would have to have pedigrees. Sure, pedigreed pets need love too, but then who would take that one-eyed mutt needing care home? Plus, I'd have to be nice to people. Even people I didn't much like. Who needs that kind of pressure?
I suppose, in the long run, it's good that I already found my prince and that I plan to keep him around for a very, very long time. Why? Because he surprises me with flowers every now and then. I can hear him, right now, playing dollhouse with our 2-year-old. He still holds my hand when we're out on a date and he can make me laugh with just a look. He supports my ambitions, holds my hand over tiny failures and always pushes me to try again. And he cooks! Oh, the man is a king (and isn't that better than a prince?!?) at the barbecue grill. And he never asks me to clean toilets...yeah, I think I've got it pretty good here as the Princess at Casa du Knight...I think I'll keep my title.
How about you?