What's Wrong With Cinderella?

Her dad.

Okay, so he's supposed to have been a wonderful man who died long before the story begins. We know he doted on his only child and then married some woman later on. His reason? To give his baby girl a new mom and sisterly playmates, right? I know the ancient-ness of the tale might hinder any noble intentions of issuing any kind of background check, but seriously? Could he have chosen worse? It makes one wonder if his real intent wasn't so much to seek out a decent matron. Maybe that was a cover for what he actually desired: some seriously awesome arm-candy!

Cinderella's Wish.

Why would one dance at a place she'd never seen be the greatest desire of Cinderella's teenage heart? First of all, how could she possibly know what she was missing? Secondly, if it were me, I'm wishing for a permanent removal from Stepmom's slave quarters. And let's face it! The heroine in question had not always lived the life of an indentured servant. On the contrary, this was a lass who had previously enjoyed life at the top of the food chain. Then zap! She's knocked into another social class,  sweetly singing her way through every heartbreak. That is, until the prospect of one night at the castle reaches her ear. Hmm.

The Fairy Godmother.

We don't need her. Sorry kids! If Cinderella really wanted to go to the ball, she could've made it happen by herself. Let's talk about transportation. She lived within walking distance of royalty. We know because she ran home after the spell broke! Now for the clothes. Alright, if Cindy's step-family didn't recognize her, though dancing a mere yardstick away, they probably would not notice if she borrowed from their closets. Check for the wardrobe. The glittery fairy is clearly an unnecessary third party, delivering with efficiency, but not perfection. A spell that lasts only until midnight? Weigh the risk, Cinderella. Do you really think this hour and half is worth getting caught? And while we're at it, let's discuss Godmother's most insidious gift (and the only “permanent” one to boot-- Hah! A great pun):

The Glass Slipper.

Why didn't Cinderella just dance barefoot instead? You couldn't pay me to try on a pair of those crystal lawsuits. Magic or not. The prospect of a wrong step in a shoe made of glass is, at slightest stub, a truly hideous picture. So wear your regular footwear, Cinders! The gowns in those pictures seem long enough to hide feet. But not dismembered toes. 

The King and Queen. (Well, the whole royal family, really.)

It appears our prince doesn't dig the dating scene. Hey, who does? But the folks don't care, because it's not about dating. No they don't care if junior dates at all! They want him married ASAP! And if parents ever cared less about who their kid marries, I haven't heard of them. Nah, they just want princey to have babies. Maybe they want to dote on some adorable royal offspring. Or, more likely, their sole obsession is to continue their royal (and possibly in-bred) gene pool. But I chuckle to discover how little it really matters to them where the other half of that royal line comes from. 

If you think about it, their expectations for the heir to the throne are laughingly impossible! Every eligible maiden in an entire kingdom scheduled to dance with this one guy in one evening alone? And in the hopes that he picks the right future queen for their country? Based on what, I'd like to know. Elocution? Long eyelashes? A firm handshake? Gosh, maybe the prince needed the fairy godmother more than Cinderella did.

Fairy Tale Love!

How can anyone get to know a person anywhere near well enough to propose marriage in one day, let alone a couple hours? Maybe even less. Okay, so we know the prince saw, right off the bat, that Cinderella had to be “the one” as the story goes. The “only girl for him,” right? Save it, dude! Look, we all know the only possible information he had on this dame at that moment was how she looked! As Friar Laurence says in Romeo and Juliet:  "Young men's love then lies not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes!" Maybe I underestimate our hero. Maybe he just fell for her calloused hands, thinking she might be prove a hard-working queen someday. Nah.

The men alone cannot be condemned with the sin of superficiality in this fairy tale. Let's probe into the women. Was the prince the only eligible marriage prospect for the female half of a kingdom? Not one of those single girls had a boyfriend or a fiance? And Cinderella. Tsk, tsk. You are supposed to epitomize honesty, goodness and inner beauty to us girls. Then why does your heart prefer a wealthy, handsome prince for a beau? Yeah, I'd say that's ironic.

Finding Ms. Right.

They should have this investigation recreated on Law and Order. Cops search high and low for a missing girl as a favor to the mayor's son. His only clue is a shoe that he found on some steps outside City Hall. It may or may not be hers, but it matches what she wore dancing at the club the previous night. They don't question the fact that he noticed her shoes, but failed to learn her name. The cops take the article in possession, study it, and decide the only sensible course of action: Bang on every door in town and force all females to try it on, no matter their age. The shoe is an unusual size, so clearly it won't fit anyone else in the entire city, assuming the missing girl lives in the city. Forget about the fact that the shoe didn't really fit the girl, since it fell off anyway. Once they find a female with the winning foot, investigators bring her back to City Hall, regardless if her physical description matches the mayor's son's report or not. He's just happy to get his parents off his back. Yeah, I think this plot's a winner.

It might not seem like it, but I still like the story of Cinderella, despite its many faults. Fairy tales are so much fun to fantasize about. . . . And have a little fun with.

The Mommy Kitchen

Every so often, I peruse a big, unread stack of catalogs sent me in the mail. I sit, put up my feet, and covet away my hour, thinking, "Why not? Why can't my kitchen look like that?" Then a voice interrupts my thoughts with, "Mommy, I'm hungry!"

And another hour of feeding begins. Suddenly, I remember exactly why my kitchen must remain neutralized in the more rustic style for a few more years. Small children keep it real when it comes to homes, and especially the kitchen. Decorative gets bumped for functional. Handy steps aside for safe. And clean takes a bow before it takes a vacation . . . for about the next decade.

So while the shiny catalogues glimmer in the back of my mind, here are some ideas for the ideal Mommy kitchen in rough-draft form:

1.  Anechoic walls. Too much noise in that room! One cry seems to reverberate off counters, pots, pans, and even other children. Give us a few walls that absorb that cry, at least toning it down a bit. Who doesn't want use of their ears once they reach 65?

2.  Kitchen seat belts. The infants get used to being strapped in for a dinner. Let's keep it up with the older kids, too. No more sprinting off after they eat just one nibble of your last two hours of work. We could automatically strap them in, only agreeing to release them after a sufficient portion of food disappears. 

3.  An alarm system. This would function for the burglars that actually live with you, not threats from the outside. Here's how it works:  You decide to take a harmless nap on the couch and someone wants to steal the last of the ice cream in the freezer. Beep! Beep! Beep! Busted. The alarms could also go off for cabinets and, of course, the oven for curious toddlers.

4. The Trough. My favorite feature, by far. During the day, Mom gets a number of requests for food which never fall at convenient times. The Trough would solve this problem. The design looks something like a two-foot tall box with a lever on the side. (The "table" top would actually consist of two rectangular planks.) Keep the snack food perched on top of it throughout the day, allowing kids to graze through the kitchen and munch as needed. When snack-time ends, pull the lever and the two planks turn to face each other, letting all unwanted leftovers fall into the middle, where a tidy little trash can awaits to whisk your mess neatly away. All that remains of cleaning crumbs is a swipe of the planks just before bedtime.

There are more ideas, but that's the beginning of this kitchen re-vamping. Maybe you can send me more ideas and who knows? Maybe someday, kitchens can become rooms that don't creep into our nightmares!