Okay so I admit it. We’re snotty. We didn’t want our kids to be your ordinary, run of the mill Disney fairy princesses, with the sparkles and the scratchy tulle and the strap-on wings that flew here directly from Dongguan Province (like magic!) and landed in the local Target.

Nate decided they should be Renaissance princesses. Mommy the feminist gave in. And with the help of some dresses we already owned, a visit to the Renaissance faire this summer, and a thrift shop pashmina torn in two, we had princesses.
 

The crazy thing is, I loved it.

Sure, they weren’t as original as the kid dressed like a Metro Card machine, and they didn’t garner the attention of the kid who was the A Train. (Subway humor is big in New York.) But they felt beautiful. They were happy. And that made me happy.

I guess this is just the beginning of that whole thing whereby parents give up their dreams for their kids, when they realize their kids have dreams of their own.