CHAPTER 4: DADDY VERSUS THE DISNEY PRINCES
Insanity. My kids have it. From where did it come?
Editors Note: Notice how the preposition “from” began the sentence and did not end the sentence. A preposition should never end a sentence. No matter how much I see it in our local paper, or in my kids school textbooks. Please make a grammatical note!
It all started with Seinfeld. You may have hated the sitcom made famous for being about nothing. Or, you may have loved it. But the fact remains that some aspects and characters from the show have permeated our culture. The foundational fabric of our free, flourishing, fellowship, if you will. One such lovable creature is the Soup Nazi. Eh? What’s that? Never heard him? Hmmm. Well, here’s a small sample.
Anyways, as this story goes (and it goes this way because I’m telling it), over a dozen odd years ago, in high school (or shortly thereafter), I was at a friends house. Being dorky kids, he went off on a tangent, impersonating, from the sounds it, an arabian sheik, who was trying to get a woman to dance for him. Good grief, I feel brain cells dying just typing out that last sentence. The impersonation went something like this: “You dance for me? You no dance for me?!?! No soup for you!!!” That’s all. Mainly those 3 sentences repeated for about 5 minutes. Yeah, I know, but it did seem funny at the time. I guess in this situation, the quote fits: “You had to be there!”
Skip ahead several years. Almost to the present time, but not quite. For a gift, for some occasion, one of my oldest, or maybe both, received the Disney Prince’s Playset Figurines. Oh sure, they’ve gotten nearly every princess there is, pre- and post-Walt. But what, I ask you my brethren, is princess without a prince? Now the imaginative scenarios are exponentially multiplied. And that is where I found myself, wanting to spend time with my daughters, and they, wanting to play with the Disney princesses and princes. I was forced to be a prince. Go figure.
I tried to be a good dad/playmate, really I did. I mean, at least it wasn’t Barbies, right? I don’t know if there is anything more difficult, more ridiculous feeling, then a father trying to play along as the side-kick male in a female dominated franchise and a female dominated playtime (2 girls versus 1 Daddy. They win.). Like I said, I tried to play along, but between the two of them, they kept changing the story situations faster than Bugs did to Daffy in “Duck Amuck”!
So finally, out of boredom laced with humiliation, I took my prince (I think it was Prince Charming, or maybe Alladin…I have too much respect for Prince Philip), trotted him up to the nearest princess, and declared, “Will you dance for me? No…then no soup for you! Would you like to see ME dance!?!?!” Then I began to swivel the upper torso of my prince (they swivel at the waist, for reasons unknown), and shouted gleefully, “A-do-ti-do-ti-do-ti-do-ti!” All this, of course, to the loud laughter of my delighted children. I should have known then that they’d be asking for an encore. So, I did it again. But since then, I have never picked up another prince.
A few months ago, the older two say they have a dance they want me to see. I’d love to see it, I tell them. Then I get the video camera out, because these are the moments to save for future embarrassment of teenagers. And this is what I get.
Notice, if you will the scared look on Brie’s face the ENTIRE TIME! Yeah, I was nervous, too. Also notice Cee-Cee starting to shake her head, too, toward the end. The insanity before me was both humorous and breathtaking. They’ve repeated their performance on different occasions since then, so I think its a favorite.
Now, where was I…oh, yes. Insanity. Yep, there can be no doubt: They got it straight from me.