Helen is obsessed.
I freaking hate princesses. I daydream about taking a meat cleaver to her Barbies and hacking them to bits.
She wants to make a new crown for herself every day, and cries as though we’re killing a puppy when it’s time to throw away the sad and mutilated old crowns.
She wears sparkly floor-length gowns all day long, every day.
And yet she will not brush her hair.
A ratty princess, that one. One day I’ll miss the Princesses phase. One day I’ll long for the innocence of it all. But right now, having to listen to it all day long? Ugh.
Now she wants a waterproof crown that she can wear at the pool. With her goggles.
Did I mention she’s obsessed?