My daughters have requested that I include something princessy in my column. My oldest in particular.
“I’m going back to work,” I say, after lunch.
“Write a princess ad,” my daughter says as I head out the door. Not goodbye. Not I love you. But write a princess ad.
However, our house is cluttered with princess ads, and I don’t think I could stand another one, especially one I made myself.
It’s covered with princess ads because we have joined the Disney Movie Club, where they give you a number of movies for only one cent, with the promise that you will buy several more at full price. Full price, of course, is equal to the gross domestic product of a small country, but that’s not in the small print when you sign up.
They also have this ingenious scheme of sending you movies you haven’t ordered, and charging you for them. It’s brilliant. For a full two years, you have to remember to refuse the monthly movie, or you will be charged for it. No one can do that. And invariably, when we forget to refuse the monthly movie, it’s one we already own. Does anyone need a copy of Mulan? We’ll sell it to you for cheap. And by cheap, I mean cheaper than a Ferrari.
But the real reason is so they can infiltrate your house with advertising. So our house is full of princesses. It was full of princesses before the ads came in, now it’s full to overflowing. It’s also full of ads for Disneyland. When I was that age, I barely knew what Disneyland was. My kids can name major attractions, with the expectation they can see them before they’re 90. They better start playing the lottery.
But of course, our daughter’s passion is princesses. They’ve even taken to dressing up in dresses every day because it increases their princessness. It also makes them incredibly cute, so I don’t mind.
I do mind the movies though. Disney occasionally makes movies for boys, like “Cars” or “Toy Story.” These movies are usually mild, cute and fun. Then they make the princess movies, aimed at little girls, with bad guys so scary they should be in a horror movie. We gather around to watch dark characters sing magic incantations for fun as a family at our house. The only relief we get is knowing these bad guys will come to a grisly demise at the end. Yikes!
But the moral is invariably “True love wins after all,” which is a moral I like, though it’s sometimes “Parents are pretty dumb.” We might have to give some parental guidance for these G-rated movies.