Ferdinand gazed at the face of the Princess. She was more beautiful than he had been told. Her lips were as pink as water lilies. He sat motionless, knowing she would soon lift him to her lips and break the spell that held him captive. She did not even look his way. Her eyes searched the far side of the pool. Ferdinand raised up to survey his competition. He gasped. The Princess began to reach for a frog near the edge of the pond. Ferdinand nearly jumped out of his skin. He called out "foul" for he knew the frog to be an imposter. Surely, the Kiss of a Princess would never release such a cad. (To be continued tomorrow.)
I have mentioned in previous posts that I have failed at marriage, miserably, three times.
The first mistake I made when selecting a husband was that I "leaned on my own understanding." I placed all the importance on his good looks and charm.
Do you remember how it was when when we were young and we listed what we thought was important or "cool" in a guy? Did you ever not begin by describing what he looked like? And then he was supposed to laugh at your jokes, like the same music, enjoy the same food and would "tell me he loves no matter what".
When a tall, dark and handsome man showed an interest in me I was captivated. I ignored every warning sign in his behavior.
His character, faith and integrity were never considered. Counting on the beginning of all the "happily ever afters" in all the fairy tales I'd ever read, I was prepared to "fix" all his character weaknesses with a "kiss". After all, I was a princess and I had the magic touch. And no, I did not consult with my father and I did not consult with the King.
Imagine my surprise when no matter how much I kissed my husband he would not turn into a prince. He continued to be who he was.
So, I worked hard at fixing him. I told him how he was not all that he should be. And when that didn't work, I showed him how to become all that he could be.
I never respected who he was and I never treated him like I did.
I had decided before we ever married that the magic of my touch would transform him into something that I could respect. And when he didn't become a prince, I became a nag.
It would be many, many years before I realized that the transforming "kiss of the Princess" in the fairy tale did not represent an actual kiss.
If you're coming into this fractured fairy tale a little late, this series is helping to promote my entry in a contest on Brickfish. (I mentioned it in yesterday's post.) The story is being posted in 700 character installments - the character limit set by the Brickfish website. The second paragraph was posted yesterday and is being replaced with a new installment today. Check it out, vote and leave your review of how its going so far.
If I win the prize, it will pay for our exodus from California back to my beloved Midwest where I can be reunited with my children and grandchildren.
My photo entry will be familiar to any of my readers who have browsed the collection of respect cards on Zazzle. The greeting card from the contest photo and ancillary product line are also titled "Chosen".