You love Cinderella. You have at least three different Cinderella books, and you borrowed “Cinderella Penguin, or, The Little Glass Flipper” from school the other day, just so you could have it as a bedtime story.
On a side note, one of your Cinderella books includes a story in which Cinderella’s father is not dead, which is extremely strange. You seem to take it in stride, but I want you to know that it just baffles me as to how a father could allow his daughter be treated that way.
Anyway, you like Cinderella. Obviously, you sympathize with the main character and you have previously likened bad people to the step mother or step sisters.
And so it was a great surprise today when you responded to a request for help with:
No. I am an ugly step-sister, and you are Cinderella.
And you said it while you were laying on your stomach, watching TV and kicking your feet in the air, which rather completed the scene.
I, unfortunately, did not hear you clearly. Your mother heard you though, and responded by laughing about as loud as she ever has, which at this point could have caused a baby to be born.
