Last night I read to Relia and DF. The story had a princess in it (a bewitched and deadly princess, Hans Christian Andersen, you know). Relia wanted to know how she could be a princess. I told her that she needed to be born into the right family.
She then proceeded to tell me that she wished she'd been born into that family because she'd make a great princess or queen. I told her that Grandma D would like that because she'd love to meet Queen Elizabeth. After a moment's thought, she told me that she'd help make that happen if she could.
It didn't occur to me until this morning that she could theoretically marry into being a princess. I don't think that I'll mention that though. Most princes are jerks.
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“Ronald,” said Elizabeth, “your clothes are really pretty and your hair is all neat. You look like a real prince, but you are a bum.” They didn’t get married after all.
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