The Day I Was a Six Year Old Princess

“I’ll wear this one!” I exclaimed slipping a shiny pink ballerina gown over my head. I loved how it swished and flowed around me.

“I like the blue one,” Marilyn said, stepping into another one of her Granny’s old party dresses.

“I am a countess and I run a horse farm,” she proclaimed.

“I am a princess!” I said just as Marilyn’s dad entered the room.

“Is that what you’re going to be when you grow up?” he laughed.

“Yes,” I squealed and twirled around the room. “I’m gonna be a princess and wear nice clothes. I can be anything!”

***

For the first challenge of the Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Rodeo, Norah Colvin asked us to cast ourselves back to six years of age. Knowing what we do about life now, what would we have wanted to be and how would we have gone about achieving that goal. The 100 word story (no more, no less) can be real or imaginary, serious or light-hearted. As always, go where the prompt leads you.

As you can surmise from my story, at the age of six I really don’t remember if I ever thought about what I wanted to be when I grew up. What I do remember is that my friend Marilyn had an old cardboard box full of her grandmother’s party dresses, shoes and costume jewelry. Occasionally we’d pull it out and play dress-up. We had so much fun prancing around pretending to be a various noble ladies of some kind. We could be anything our imaginations inspired us to be.