I still believe in fairytales. Fairytales are women’s stories and possess much power. We do not have to do, be, or act. We only have to listen to the magic of the words. Let me tell you, girlfriends, words work.

On Saturday afternoons, a fairy tale ritual takes place in my home. My granddaughters and I gather in the fairytale parlor where it automatically becomes night. We gather our blankets, snacks, and teddy bears and tell our favorite fairytales. Lately, my eldest granddaughter seems to be losing interest in our fairytale ritual. However, this last Saturday, the teenager surprised me by bringing in her own princess/toad fairytale to read that she found on the internet. You might like to pass this one down your matriarchal lineage. It’s called “A fairy tale for the assertive woman of the 21st century.”

Once upon a time, in a land far away, a beautiful, independent, self–assured princess happened upon a frog as she sat contemplating ecological issues on the shores of an unpolluted pond in a verdant meadow near her castle. The frog hopped into the princess’ lap and said, “Elegant lady, I was once a handsome prince, until an evil witch cast a spell upon me. One kiss from you, however, and I will turn back into the dapper, young prince that I am. Then, my sweet, we can marry and set up housekeeping in yon castle with my mother, where you can prepare my meals, clean my clothes, bear my children, and forever feel grateful and happy doing so.”

That night, on a repast of lightly sautéed frog legs seasoned in a white wine and onion cream sauce, she chuckled to herself and thought, “I don't think so.”

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