The only thing more disturbing than witnessing my three girls go saucer-eyed at the sight of seven Disney Princesses (Snow White, Cinderella, Aurora, Mulan, Ariel, Jasmine, and Belle if you must know, and I know you must) spinning around the ice in frantic search of their respective princes is witnessing three thousand girls go saucer-eyed. Scary.
Risa, who dons her Snow White halloween costume daily (sans the black pageboy wig, thank God), must have been guided by some inner compass of decorum because she didn't even consider wearing it to the show. When she saw throngs of her peers arriving at the arena dressed in their tulle gowns and tiaras, I braced for a classic 4-year-old screech aria. But it never happened.
As the young men dressed in princely attire trolled the aisles proffering what amounted to pink plastic flashlights for $24, I feared the worst. But though they earned curious stares from my twins, there were no formal requests for ownership.
The kind, misguided woman who offered my daughters her $7 ziploc bag of lavendar Princess cotton candy was surprised when I answered, "Oh, no thank you," for them, but probably even more surprised when they echoed my response and then turned back to watch Cinderella waltz with what's-his-name.
And what of my 2-year-old? She was disenchanted after 20 minutes, but gets high marks for suffering through the entire two hours without causing even a momentary scene. Popcorn, that's why.
Disney's not the only one with princesses, ya know.
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