I need your help.
The boys won't let me play their game.
I want to be a princess."
Her face is downtrodden.
Her voice a barely audible squeak.
We travel together to the basement.
Blankets and rearranged chairs have transformed the space into their imaginations' playground.
"Boys, your attention please!
Your sister wants to play with you.
She wants to be a princess.
Please let her be a princess."
Expressions of shock and indignation
Fly in the face of the request.
"But Dad,
There are no princesses
In World War II!"
I meet the exasperation with a salute as inspiration strikes,
"General!
Meet your new recruit:
Princess Jones"
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