Fairy Tales

I seldom read Kit fairy tales. He feels that they perpetuate unfair gender stereotypes. Although sometimes he wants to run around with a sword, slaying fire-breathing dragons (chasing chip-thieving seagulls with a large butter knife), other times he just wants to wear a pretty dress. So, I was a little surprised when he asked me, “Why is it, “Once upon a time?” And not, “Once underneath a time? And why do the ladies never get to sword fight?”

“Yes, quite!” I agreed, “Far too many damsels in distress.”

“Yes, I suppose a big fluffy dress would get in the way, and trip you up in a sword fight,” he said pensively.

Suddenly looking excited, he asked “Can I be in a fairy tale?”

Envisaging a living room full of dismantled furniture ‘castles’ and other trip hazards, I cunningly suggested, “How about you be Rip Van Winkle or Sleeping Beauty?”

“They never even got out of bed,” Kit objected, deftly exposing my true intentions. “I want to fight a dragon or something!”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” I said.

“Well, you might be afraid of dragons, but I’m not,” he said, proudly, fortunately misunderstanding me.

“There’s a Komodo Dragon at the zoo,” I told him, “He’s bigger than a dog, and poisonous. You’re not allowed to fight him, though.”

“What does he eat?” Kit asked tremulously.

“Oh, meerkats, I expect,” I replied nonchalantly.

At that point Kit, most unconvincingly, feigned disappointment that he was not allowed to fight the Komodo Dragon.

“If dragons are that fierce, I think it would be best to have one on my side. Maybe I could ride one,” he suggested, “How about a pet dragon? No, even better. How about a pet Tyrant-osaurus?” he offered, “We could fight the baddies.”

“I think you fancy yourself as a superhero, not a fairy tale hero,” I said, smiling.

“I do not fancy myself!” he objected, offended, “Anyway, it’s my fairy-tale. I can write it how I want. I don’t want it to be the same as anyone else’s.”

“I think we can assume that the chances of that are very slim,” I quipped, “So we have the characters, the hero, and his side-kick the Tryant-osauraus. What are your names going to be?”

“I wouldn’t go kicking a T-Rex in the side if I were you,” he said, “If we’re going around saving people, I should be called First Aid Kit, like you called me that time I was a tree doctor.”

“Perfect!”

“And if my T-Rex is a pet, I think a good name for him is Tiddles.”

“Do you?!”

“Yes.”

So that was that.

Tune in next time for The Adventures of First Aid Kit and Tiddles T-Rex.