When I was a little girl with blonde ringlet curls and the world as my oyster, my mother told me numerous times not to settle for anything less than the best. That my princess mentality I enjoyed to carry about with me should never cease when looking for a Prince Charming, or anything really. Being no older than six the best Prince Charming I could think of was Raphael, the personified turtle that actually scared me in those movies.
As time passed, I went through a variety of phases, the “I DON’T NEED A MAN” to “oh but babies and tea and puzzle time.” Approximately two days later I realized, marrying a giant turtle that rarely blinked and talked but moved his mouth at funny times, was probably social suicide. So I went man hunting again, what better man to hunt for as my Prince Charming than action figures, I mean superheroes. I finally found my best, the best Prince Charming that everyone in my multi-aged class would basically be super jelly of.
Out of genuine concern that Batman wouldn’t realize he was property of Caitlin J. I asked my mother what to do about when I found my man and was afraid my girl Rosie the Riveter or that homely Cat Woman might also have eyes on him. Genuine and sure to not laugh too hard at me my mother reassured me that she was too young to be a grandmother- or too young to be without all of her children. She told me to pray for my man, to indeed pray for Batman. And prayed for Batman, I did.
At the youthful age of twenty-two I still pray for Batman, for Batman to realize HE IS ALL MINE. Only my prayers are not to keep him near but as a future Prince Charming, but right here and today’s Prince Charming.
Batman is kind of thick headed I think, I still think he’s the best.