18 Sep Daddy’s Princess
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"Daddy's Princess"Written by
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Estimated reading time — 2 minutes
Daddy calls me his princess. I feel like one too, especially when I’m wearing one of my princess crowns. My Daddy makes them for me. He’s an artist, you see.
Every once in a while, Daddy says he has a present for me. It’s a box, usually wrapped in pretty sparkly paper with a bow on top. I get a big smile on my when I see it. I tear the paper off and open the box and pull out the thin, noisy paper, and my smile gets even bigger. It’s Daddy’s latest princess crown, all for me, and it’s beautiful. They’re always beautiful.
Daddy started making princess crowns after my Mommy left. I remember watching her leave. She had a big brown suitcase. I still don’t know why she didn’t tell me goodbye or when she’d be home. Daddy says she’s not coming home, but I think she will one day.
I remember when Daddy gave me my first crown, two years ago. I was six. I remember before I opened it, Daddy looked scared, like he was afraid I wouldn’t like it. I loved it, and I wore it every day until he gave me the second one. I have nine now.
One of my favorite crowns has pieces of silver on it. Daddy gave it to me last year. I love how it sparkles in the sunlight. I’ve only seen it sparkle in the sunlight that comes in through the windows, though. Daddy won’t let me take it outside. He won’t let me take any of my princess crowns outside. He doesn’t want them to get broken.
When I have a friend over, Daddy makes sure all of the princess crowns are in the crown room. That’s where he keeps them safe. It’s where he makes them, too. I’ve never been in the crown room, and I’ve tried but Daddy always keeps it locked, and I don’t know where the key is.
I’m not allowed to show my friends the crowns because Daddy thinks we’ll break them or one of my friends will steal them. That’s why I can’t tell my friends about the crowns, either. If I do tell, he’ll never make another one, and he’ll throw them all away. I don’t want that. I love my princess crowns.
“Hey Princess,” Daddy says to me with his smile. He says, “I’ve got a present for you,” and I see the box behind him on the dinner table, all sparkly with a pretty bow on top. I smile big and run over to it. I tear off the bow and the paper and open the box. I pull out the noisy, thin yellow paper until I see it, and I smile even bigger. It’s beautiful.
My Daddy points out what he did with the teeth on this one. I try it on and see what he means. Three teeth in each side fit snugly between my locks to keep my new princess crown in place.
I look in the mirror. It’s beautiful. I look like a princess. Then I notice, this crown still has food on it. I take the crown off and look at Daddy. Usually, he’s the only one allowed to clean the food off. He smiles and nods, which means he left some just for me.
I pick the meat off with my teeth. It’s yummy. I put my crown back on my head and smile at my reflection. Then I look at Daddy, who smiles back at me. I love my Daddy. I’m his Princess.
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