If you had told me four years ago that I would have voluntarily purchased this bathing suit for a certain three-year-old I would have likely rolled my eyes, laughed and thought to myself that no daughter of mine will don a commercialized image of a singing mermaid no matter how much she begs.
It’s shiny. It’s purple. It has Ariel on the front. In other words, Frances loves it. And my true confession? I found it for her while I was browsing in the girls’ bathing suit aisle with Frances and George safely playing with the store toys. I could have escaped the wrath of Ariel and Frances would have been none the wiser. But the minute I saw it, I could picture Frances’s sheer delight in wearing it. Ariel is her favorite of all of the Disney Princesses because she “likes her red hair.” How can I not nurture that simple affection?
While I am in no hurry to buy more theme-related items (much less have Frances actually see some of the movies where these princesses first make their appearance. In fact, if it weren’t for her friends at school our poor neglected child would have no idea these lovely ladies existed in cartoon land), I also can’t help but be lured into her world of princesses and princes, queens and kings all of which live in our house (Will and I are sometimes the king and queen, but sometimes the prince and princess. Marshall is always a prince. Max is often a prince and strangely enough sometimes a princess. Frances is always the princess and George is always the prince. I hope you could follow that).
She is most definitely my princess; in every wonderful way imaginable.