Princess Gertie

A feisty and fun little girl, who just doesn’t get why there is so much fuss in being a princess.

So once upon a time, there was me. My name is Gertrude – Gertrude. Horrible isn’t it? Well it’s not my fault; all of the good princess names were taken. What? Oh didn’t I mention that I was a princess? Yep, I am, well sort of anyway. I am a princess because my grandma is the queen and one day, when she gets bored, my dad will be the king. It’s kind of just a title, because you see, I am not very good at the whole princess thing. That’s how I landed here, at Princess Penelope’s Charm School. Or as I like to call it, “How to be a princess in ten horrible steps.”

Let me tell you my story. There I was minding my own business, doing everything a happy seven year old does, when my mother told me I had to go and get cleaned up. I kind of grumbled and whined about it because I really don’t like to stop playing. Who does? Mom said we were having company and to make sure I wore something nice and brushed my teeth and hair. This must be important company, I thought. I went up to my room and did everything my mother told me to do, because she’s going to be the Queen one day, so I have to listen twice as much to her as ordinary kids to do their moms. (And you thought being the princess would be easy.) I picked out a pretty pink dress, one without ruffles, because I hate ruffles. I brushed my teeth and I fought with my hair. I was trying to brush it but I think there are little hair monsters that come into my room in the middle of the night and tie my hair into knots. I think it is fun for them.  I have long, thick, curly hair and those knots hurt. One day I am going to stay awake and tie the hair monsters into knots.

I went back downstairs to find that our company had arrived. It was another king and queen from some other kingdom somewhere. My father told me where but all I heard was blah blah blah. Hey, I’m seven, most of the time I am not listening anyway. I groaned – to myself – because I knew better than to do that out loud, but I groaned because this was going to be another long dinner where the grown-ups would talk about their land, and their people, and the affairs of the kingdom and I would be so bored that I would make mountains out of my potatoes and boats out of my carrots until mom would finally let me leave the table. On the outside though, I curtsied and smiled politely and said hello, because that’s what I was supposed to do.

Suddenly, there was a surprise, and I thought, my night wasn’t going to be so bad after all. Out from behind the king stepped a boy; a boy who was dressed in frilly clothes, way too frilly for a boy, but a boy about my age just the same. We were introduced, and my friends, that is where my troubles began.

“Princess Gertrude, may I present, Prince Reginald the third.” My father said. I wondered why adults always asked, like we were going to stop them from presenting anyone.

I curtsied and smiled and said, “How do you do Reginald?” and then I whispered, “So I guess all the good prince names were taken too?”

He harrumphed at me and shook my hand.  Maybe this wasn’t going to be so much fun after all.