Royals

I’d love to be a princess, but my allergy to tiaras just ruins it every time.

I’m sure I’m not the only one afflicted by this malady, but for some reason people don’t, or can’t talk about it. I understand that – I do. It took me 37 years, hundreds of attacks, and 10 years as a card carrying member of Tiara Allergies Anonymous to build up enough courage to speak out.

I realize now that princes my age are few and far between. I owe it to every young lady out there waiting on her knight in shining armor to let her know. Not finding a prince might not be her fault (because, let’s face it, none of us ever want to admit there might be something challenging about us when it comes to finding true love.)

It always worked like this. There would be a prince. He didn’t have to propose, ask me on a date, or even recognize I was in the same room with him.

Of course, he always found out rather quickly because as soon as it would come to my attention there was a prince in the room, fantasy hormones kicked into overdrive. Before he completed his official room scan to determine if there were any eligible or likely princesses to be courted, my imagination had us betrothed.

Things would have been fine if my imagination stopped there. But it didn’t.

Within seconds of betrothal we would be standing before whoever marries royalty (that part was always a bit fuzzy for me), decked in full-fledged raiment of prince and princess (tiara included) poised to exchange “I do’s”.

That was when my troubles always began.

Some people sneeze or get itchy and runny eyes when they have an allergy. Some break out in rash or worse, develop hives. If only I had been so lucky.

No, when my tiara allergy kicked in, the transformation from eager princess wanna-be to cutthroat vixen cougar birthed a side of me that would make a sailor blush. Before that unsuspecting prince could say ‘jack-rabbit’, I was ON him, right up in his business, ready to be making babies.

You can see why this created problems, given royal protocols and all. Sigh.

I’ve been told there is no cure, but writing about it is sure good therapy.

Wow. I don’t even know where this came from. Hopefully it brings a grin. Full disclosure: to the best of my knowledge there is no such thing as a tiara allergy and I’ve never been within a thousand yards of what the world deems royalty. But when it comes to princes – I met mine in HS and we’ll be celebrating 37 years of married bliss next month, so I guess things worked OK.