October 18, 2004

Dad, tell me a story,” is what I used to hear, but now it's a lot more specific, like, “Dad, tell me a story that's a little bit scary and a little bit funny and has farting.” The latest trend in stories at our house is spooky stories with princesses. There must be at least two of these stories a night, sometimes three, before our five-year old will agree to go to sleep. This level of output means that the stories do not always achieve a Hans Christian Anderson-like level of excellence:

This is the story of Cinderella after she got married to the prince. She had three hundred dresses and spent most of her time giving parties. Her step-sisters would come around sometimes, hoping to get some money or invitations to her parties, but Cinderella never gave them anything. “Go away,” she would say, “You were mean to me when I was poor; why should I be nice to you now?”
      “Oh please, Cinderella,” they said, “just give us a little bit of money! The old house needs a new roof!”
      “Get out of here before I call the royal guards!” said Cinderella.
     But even though she was rich now, and had a handsome husband, and could be as mean as she wanted to her step-sisters, she was starting to get bored. Too many parties. She was starting to put on weight and thought maybe she should take some classes. Study welding or something.

Right. Okay. One day, Cinderella went to the well to get some water [pause here to explain what a well is], but just as she pulled the bucket up, a crazy evil bird flew out of the well and snatched off Cinderella's arm and flew back into the well. The bird's name was Chill. “Come back here and give me my arm back!” yelled Cinderella, but Chill just laughed.
      “Ha ha ha! You'll never get your arm back!”
     Cinderella was very upset about losing her arm. She went to see the oldest, wisest man in the kingdom. His name was Fred. He was 90 years old. But Fred said he had no idea what to do, and she would have to go see his dad, Fred Senior. Fred Senior was 130.

My daughter again: “He's going to die soon.”

Well, maybe. Anyway, Fred Senior said the only one Chill would listen to was his mommy. Chill's mommy was named Chillsmommy. She lived in the next kingdom over. Cinderella decided she would take a trip. So she got on her motorcycle. Everyone said, “Cinderella! You can't ride a motorcycle with only one arm!” But she was very determined. She rode very carefully to the next kingdom using the one arm she had left. Which was her right arm.

Okay. So Cinderella sees a sign that says “Belle's Kingdom of Spelling.” Because Belle was really into spelling. In fact, ever since she married Beast, spelling is all she cared about. She made everyone in the kingdom spell what they wanted to say instead of speaking it normally. But Cinderella didn't know this. “Excuse me,” she said to the first person she saw.
      “H-E-Y,” he said “Y-O-U A-R-E N-O-T S-P-E-L-L-I-N-G!”
      “I have no idea what you just said,” she said.
     “Y-O-U H-A-V-E T-O S-P-E-L-L E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G H-E-R-E!” the man said. Cinderella still did not understand. Some guards came and took her to the royal palace and put her in the dungeon. Belle came to visit her there.

Okay. So Belle says, “Cinderella, you are in the dungeon because you didn't spell what you wanted to say. Everyone in my kingdom has to spell everything. Except me.”
     Cinderella tried to convince Belle that this was a terrible idea. “Belle, please let me go!” she begged. But Belle wouldn't. So Cinderella said, “I have an idea. Let's have a spelling contest. If you win, you can keep me locked up forever. If I win, you have to let me go, let everyone speak normally again, and grant me one wish.” Belle agreed, because she was sure that she was the best speller in whole world.
      They set up a big stage for the contest, and invited everyone in the whole kingdom. There was an old guy named Gordon, who was just as old as Fred Senior. He had a big dictionary and asked Belle and Cinderella to spell words from it. They started out with easy words like boy and cat. Both princesses were very good spellers, so Gordon started giving them harder words like plexiglas and saboteur. Belle couldn't believe that Cinderella could spell so well. They stayed on the stage so long the sun went down. Gordon began giving them words like saboteur and persnickety. They spelled words all night long, but neither princess made any mistakes. When the sun came up, Gordon gave them the hardest word he knew: antidisestablishmentarianism. Belle tried to spell it, but it was so long, and she was so sleepy that she got it wrong. Cinderella divided the word into small parts and found it wasn't so hard after all. She spelled it correctly and won the contest.
      All the people were very happy. Now they could finally talk normally. People in trouble could shout “Help!” instated of spelling “H-E-L-P,” and mommies could finally say “I love you” to their daughters instead of “I L-O-V-E Y-O-U.” [At this point I suddenly remember that Cinderella needs to get her arm back.] For her wish, Cinderella asked to be taken to see Chillsmommy, who lived in a well just like Chill.
      Chillsmommy was very angry with her son, Chill. She gave Cinderella a ride back to her own kingdom and told Chill to give Cinderella her arm back. Cinderella put it back on and had a much easier time riding her motorcycle after that.