Yesterday I bought a tiara . . . because I could.
When I was a kid I never pretended I was a princess, like ever. I had no royal inclinations when it came to my dreams, I’d have rather been a vampire to honest. I didn’t want to grow up and be a veterinarian or a nurse or an astronaut or any of the other things little girls my age dreamed of becoming, I wanted to be an archaeologist who drove a big rig when I wasn’t busy running a library. Thus far in life the closest I’ve come to being an archaeologist was the time I found fossilized french fries under my daughter’s bed, and my big rig turned out to be a minivan filled with kids. I do have enough books scattered about my home to operate a small library though, except I don’t want anyone touching my books. Mine.
I really don’t know why I decided to buy myself a tiara. I’m not a girly-girl by a long shot. I don’t have a closet filled with shoes that match all my outfits, come to think of it, I don’t really have outfits. I have a closet full of crap that is too small, too big, or just plain comfy. Some of it even matches. None of the items crammed into drawers or haphazardly hung are fancy or colorful, I have one pink shirt and that’s only because it has a kick-ass skull on it. Vibrant color to me is a new black t-shirt I won’t really love until it’s faded a bit.
I’m wearing my tiara right now actually, I think it looks fantastic with my grey tank top and my husband’s old plaid button up I cut the sleeves off of. I feel positively regal. I really wanted to go in search of a scepter or a wand of some sort to match, but my son forbid it. He seems to think there’s a chance I might hit someone with it. He’s probably right.
Last night I put on my tiara and waited for the rest of my offspring to notice, but they didn’t say anything. I was like, “Dudes – I’m wearing a tiara!” and they were like, “And?” They are far too accepting of my weirdness, nothing phases them anymore. I tried to banish them from my kingdom but they wouldn’t leave. They did agree to help me dig a moat around the house, so I guess I won’t push it.
My husband is out of town and doesn’t yet now I’ve elevated my status to princess, he’ll likely be about as impressed as my children were. I’m going to need that scepter . . .