Last night I was cranky. The house was a mess, I felt like a mess, so I decided to make a mess of my evening as well. Unfortunately this means making a mess of my husband’s evening as well. Luckily for me, Scott is used to pulling me out of moody slumps. After a walk around the block and a bowl of chocolate pudding, I was feeling myself again.
This morning Scott told me I look like a princess. If you know me, you know there is no one less like a princess. I walk around in ripped clothes, trip over my own feet and wash my hair as little as possible. However, this morning was the first day of summer sunshine and I decided to wear a flirty new dress, a jaunty ponytail and a smile. I guess I honestly did remind him of a princess.
Scott is the ultimate rock, pillar, unflappable support. I’m the flag floating in the wind, he is the flagpole. He brings me back to centre whenever I stray. This is great, but I can be my own flagpole too. There’s no reason I can’t tell myself that I’m a princess (even if it’s the paper bag princess) and believe it. There’s no reason that I can’t remind myself of the royalty inherent in all of us whenever I am tempted to self-destruct. God save the Queen!
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