February 26, 2020

Dissed By A Fairy Princess

I took my son to the park a few days ago, and there she was- a fairy princess.  “Look Mommy it is Snow White,” he said, his eyes beaming.  He wanted to meet Snow White.  However, Snow White had other plans that did not yet include Prince Charming.

Snow White was all of four years old.  She was adorable.  She was building a sand castle in her beautiful gown, constantly untangling herself from the dress, and pushing her headband up over her eyes every time she knelt down to add more sand to her castle.  She looked like Snow White with fair skin only lighter hair and bright pink tennis shoes (can’t remember if Snow White had those). 

My son was smitten.  I have never seen him like this.  “She is so pretty Mommy,” he said.  (I turned off my Motherly yentaness..”Is she good enough for my son?”)  Before I could comment or even comprehend what was going on here, he was off to meet her.

He knelt down beside her in the sand box.  “Hi Princess.  Can I build the castle with you.”  Without even staring up at him, she answered, “No.” 

“I would really like to help you,” he continued.

“No!  I don’t need your help,” she said affirmatively.

“Then can I just watch you as you build it?” he asked.

She ignored him.  He tried again.  “Is it ok if I sit here and watch you Snow White?”

She gave him the silent treatment.  My son glanced up at me and shrugged his shoulders.  I tried not to make eye contact.  I did not want to get involved.  I wanted to see how it would play out. 

Suddenly Snow White dropped her shovel and ran off.  (Glass slipper, plastic shovel, what’s the difference?) My son stood there glancing first at the shovel and then at Snow White on the run.  He picked up the shovel and decided to run after her.

“Hey!  Wait!  Snow White.  You forgot your shovel.”  They ran out of the sand box and over the grass.  I wanted to stop him.  (“Don’t run with the shovel in your hand.”  “Don’t run after her if she doesn’t want you to play with her.”)  But I let them play.

She kept looking back to see how far behind he was and would giggle.  (Was she playing hard to get? Hmmm, it appeared so.  It must be an inherent characteristic in girls.)  He finally stopped as if noticing the game.  “I’m going to put the shovel down here.  If you want it, come and get it,” he said as he walked away and went on to play elsewhere.  Just as soon as he gave up, she gave in, walking back to claim her shovel.

She watched him play on the jungle gym.  He kept looking back at her without saying a word.  Finally she headed over to her mom and decided to remove her costume.  It was getting in the way of her “getaways.” 

He then recognized her without her costume.  “Hi Princess,” he still shouted.
She looked away.  He came up to me as I watched from the sidelines.

“Mommy, will you help me pick flowers for the Princess.  I need to bring her flowers.”

There were no flowers around, I told him to pretend.  So he found some leaves and gathered them in a bouquet.  They were beautiful fallen leaves; red, orange, and yellow.  I watched as he walked over to the princess, who was now playing with two other girls.

“Princess, I brought you flowers.”  He handed them to her.

She looked at them and took them from his hands and threw them on the ground.  “I don’t want your flowers.”

He was saddened for a moment.  I had to chime in.  How could I not.  She rejected my son and his kind gesture?  (I know they are only four, but still.)  How hard was it to be guy and make the first move.  Was it intrinsic?  What was he thinking?  He just liked her.

At this point, it was time for us to leave.  We walked away.  I asked if he wanted to say bye to the Princess.  He said, “No thanks.”

Just as we were half way to our car, we heard the pitter patter of tennis shoes behind us (pink ones).  It was her.  He stopped and smiled at ther,“Yes, Princess?”  He asked. 

She held up her pail in her hands and asked, “Will you help me fill up some water for my castle.”

I helped him help her. (A true yenta mom at this point.) I turned on the drinking fountain, as he held her pail to fill it.  He smiled.  She did not.  He looked at her.  She looked down.  “Anything else you need?” he asked.

“That’s all.” She said blushing as she ran away.  And my son smiled all the way to the car. 



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