We’re just back from four days at that ground zero of princess culture known as Disney World. The honest truth:
I loved it.
All of it.
I’m sure thanks in part to the amazing Disney advice that so many of you offered here and on your own blogs. Minus the stroller recommendations that 800,000 of you insisted on. Thank you ever so kindly but didn’t want one, didn’t need one, was delighted not to have one. Eh, I have city kids. They’re good walkers.
Now back to the loving Disney part.
Here’s the thing. You go to a theme park, don’t expect to be backpacking through Eastern Europe. There are gift shops at every turn, caloric desserts the size of your head, crazy bachelorettes stumbling around in white mouse ears and veils, lazy but able-bodied people riding those motorized thingies for no good reason, long lines you must wait on to do things you will enjoy to varying degrees, and…yes, princesses.
As Annie prepared me for last week, your daughter will simply be a princess while she’s there and that’s that.
The monorail captain will say “all aboard, Princesses!” The waiter will ask, “and for the Princesses?” And the ride operators will caution, “watch your step, Princess,” even as you’re boarding the Buzz Lightyear Space Ranger Spin wearing nothing remotely sparkly, pink, or floor-length.
I asked Thalia how it made her feel to be called Princess everywhere.
“Good,” she smiled. “Special.”
And I think for four days out of the year at Disney World, why the heck not. Go ahead and be a Princess in your head for four days in sight of that big, iconic castle. Imagine that you live there and that you can go on rides every single day of your life and have dessert after every meal. Live a little, kid. Because back home you have to clear your dishes and do your math homework.
