Give Peas a Chance illustration borrowed from
The Princess was totally P.O.'ed.
The septic had backed up and
offal was floating in the Royal Moat.
The Prince was a layabout
and it totally
frosted her nanny
that she had to do the bailing
while he lay around
ordering the minions about.
Her tilting tiara was in imminent danger
of falling into the turgid waters,
and tiaras are not easily replaced.
"I only have two hands,"
she fumed.
"How can I be
expected to bail AND
keep my tiara on straight?
Really, it is just
Too Much!"
After a few vengeful glares
at the Prince,
and a mental cataloguing
of the general inequitableness
of having been born a woman,
she decided she was
just Done.
So she drew up the drawbridge,
abandoning the moat
to its smelly fate.
But she brought
one last bucketful
into the Palace,
depositing it
where she felt it might do
the most good,
in terms of Future Motivation
and Team-Building.
The Prince's ki-yi-ing
could be heard
throughout the kingdom,
after which
he sat sulkily in the corner,
eating his turds and whey.
The Princess just smiled
her ubiquitous smile,
buffing her fingernails
against her royal robes,
and made sure her tiara
was on Just Right.
Ella's prompt at Poets United's Wonder Wednesday is: Bridges.
And Poetry Jam asks for a fairy tale.
So I decided we needed a Grim one.
