The Tale of the Principal

Once Upon a Time, there was a little boy who didn't understand....

"She can't be the principal", declared The Babe, as we sat in the Preschool carpool line this morning. He was looking at the woman who has been running the Preschool he attends, whom I've known since the eldest Nowell boy was three.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because she's a girl!" There was more than a hint of "DUH, Mom" in his voice.

"I don't understand. What does that have to do with being the head of the Preschool?" I was lost like a white-coated puppy in a blizzard.

"Girls aren't princes" He stated flatly.

"OH." I finally caught on. "So, should we call her the princess-ipal?"

"Yeah. The princisisicipal." It didn't exactly roll off his tongue, but it didn't seem to matter. "That's right." The smile on his face told me the Earth was spinning in the right direction again, after a brief turn the wrong way while women were described in masculine terms.

When it was his turn to exit the car, we bestowed the new name upon the Princess-ipal, who was charmingly satisfied at the new moniker.

And all was right again in the world of the four-year-old.

The End.