|"Beast, honey, don't forget my Diet Cokes! And I like them in the smaller cans..."|
Recently, Kid1 got a new job as a Disney princess with a Tier 2 (somewhere above carnie-land but way below Disneyland standards) birthday party outfit. Depending on the assignment, she is either Ariel or Cinderella, Belle or Sleeping Beauty.
She just finished her first weekend on the job with four gigs. She went 120 miles, from Pearland to League City and suburbs in-between, changing in her car from red wig to black and so on.
I saw one of these not-quite-ready-for-prime-time get-ups and told her that any five-year-old would see through it in 30 seconds ("You're not a real princess!), but so far so good. Still, there are obstacles.
"It's not the kids who are the problem, it's the 17-year-old older cousins." Turns out they're the ones who point out that your wig is sliding backwards off your head.
It's bad enough she has to change in her car, right, but she can't even walk in the Ariel costume due to the low-budget mermaid tail. She either has to take geisha-like steps or hop. So when the family asks her to set up upstairs (while hauling her 1980s circa/company-issued CD player and "magic bucket,") it's a problem. ...hop, hop, hop.
Meanwhile, there are any number of unscripted questions to answer. Here's my favorite.
Q: Belle, where's Beast?
A: He's at the grocery store picking up something for dinner.
Q: Which grocery store?