My 16 year old was asked to name a cartoon character I reminded him of…he threw out princess fiona without batting an eyelid!
Obviously, I entered into DABDA (or the 5 stages you go through before death) over the next 30 minutes…denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.
Here’s how it went…
Auto-reaction (denial)-
“this guy! I’m obviously not green! My ears are mint- I have no royal-line I know of…what a bullshitter….clearly I’m more of a beauty- or a Snow White- or Cinderella having to clean up after you kids like a slave all the time!”
This stage was quickly surpassed with anger-
“what a fucking troll I have created!…what things can I take from him that he loves, so he can feel this throat- jabby pain too”….
I considered bargaining at that point… in fact asked him “are you sure? Am I not perhaps a prettier or funnier character?”….then the fear of hearing- “ok mum maybe shrek or donkey fits you better” struck me deep, so I dropped that line of questioning immediately.
I resigned myself to the physical similarities that plague me and the princess and of course depression took over “fuck it- its cause I’m a round potato, generally shady from the hangovers-so I guess a version of green, and I’m a bit of a bitch….OMG I relate to princess fiona!”
lastly…I accepted it. Why?
Because I am her… “by night one way, by day another…”….. that’s me! All me….
Let me explain.
I blast T.I- I love snoop and 2pac- i know all the words to eminems greatest ballad’s, I crave Nicki Minaj….I am a gangster rap, hip-hop loving, r n b shaking white chick…
At night I consist of a hoody and a wineglass and a mouth that would make your grandmother turn in her grave (it makes my mother squirm in her seat which appallingly I’m proud of so don’t hold back- my bad!) ..I use my phone at night to stalk twitter feeds of Donald trumps exploits and I troll his supporters…I post stupid things on Facebook. I sip my wine on the couch (lots of wine)- all the while my children continuously cry “mum, mum, mummy, mummy, mother, mother….” (bastards watch too much family guy) to which I often tell ’em “what man!!!… you guys suck, find something to do that isn’t yelling at me”- parenting level PRO!
I refuse to watch the news and American dad plays over and over in our home…
I like to laugh and I do it loudly- shit, the number of times someone has said to me “I heard your laugh so knew you were here”- well I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard that.
I am…”By night one way….”
But then morning rolls round, I drag my carcass out of bed and do what I fondly refer to as “lawyering up”… I shed the hoody, don the suit- the boring black suit. My entire pizzazz in my wardrobe is the occasional white shoe instead of black.
I strut to the office, breifcase and files in tow….and often frequent the court. I bow to the judges, chat law with my learned friends and appropriately I never even consider a swear word falling from my perfect mouth in that situation…i act professionally in a manner I must- for I am a lawyer. I am a fit a proper person admitted to the high court. I am certified and qualified and pretty alright at the job too I hear.
I am…”By day another….”
I am princess fiona in all her glory!
I’m princess-like by day, prim and proper with my ‘hanky’- all appropriate and well spoken with a chunk of fight. At night, I remain a princess but I’m pretty ogre-ish, a little insecure and yet I’m the real me…..
So my son, I’ll take that shit as a compliment x
