A lonely castle for a princess

Let’s hope I am turning a corner and putting all those ‘arse-cakes’ behind me.

Arse-cakes: a term coined by my long-suffering friends to describe the over-crowded cluster of my ill-chosen romantic partners.

I quite like the sound of it, just not the endurance test of explaining why another one has gained new membership to this cluster.

And I think I could just about swallow the awakening of a pattern emerging but…it’s the ‘p’ word that disrupts my digestion of their sage advice.

“Every woman should be treated like a princess”

P is for princess. Does P have enough room to welcome in a prince too?

I can almost accept that ‘princess treatment’ was warranted when a woman had to give up so much of her freedom and choices to step into the role of a perfect housewife. Being a princess, I guess, was one of the perks that came with job.

Perhaps now it shouldn’t be perceived as a prerequisite of affirmation in how your beloved holds you so dearly.

Surely we’re prepared to forgo the tiara for a more equal footing of courtship?