A Replacement Prince

At twenty-nine I was once again back in that maiden meadow looking for Prince Charming. Rule #1,953 in the rulebook I had grown up with read, "Never, ever do the nasty, nasty before your wedding night." Not about to break any rules, lest I be called "bad" and go to hell, at almost thirty I was still a virgin.  But I was quite familiar with the feely, feely and touchy, touchy and yippee, yippee, so no rules were broken, and I could still call myself a good girl--perfect maiden material for a prince on the prowl.

Neither one of us were looking for each other on the day we met. I was minding my own business picking daisies and he was riding through the meadow on his way to a business meeting. He asked for directions and I provided him with a very detailed map. He was impressed that I knew how to draw a map. I was impressed by his looks: tall, athletic build, blond hair, amazing blue eyes. And his southern accent was the cherry on the top.

After the meeting, on his way back through the meadow, he stopped his mount to thank me once again for my fine map. We talked for about two hours and then he said, "I really like you. If I were to ask you out on a date, would you go?" Considering the fact that I had already been picked by another prince nine years prior...considering that if I said yes, I would have to tell a few lies...considering that If I actually went out on a date with another prince I would be cheating...considering all of that, I said, "Yes, I'd love to go out with you." 

Now I had a bit of a problem. For four years I had been telling my prince that I was leaving and going back to the meadow to find another prince, but every time he would bring up that pitter patter promise, "Next year, at Christmas time, I promise, there will be the sound of pitter patter running through the house." And he knew that would stop me from leaving because every time I would think "babies" but when Christmas would come, the only sound of pitter pat was Kitty Kat.

Charlie was his name and he was a prince from Evansville, Indiana. He was definitely looking for a maiden. And he found one: me. The fact that I had already been plucked from the maiden meadow nine years before did not concern him. I wasn't married; I wasn't betrothed, and I was looking for a replacement prince. He would do whatever he had to do, even if it was a duel. He was up for the fight to claim his prize. But, alas, there was no duel because the original prince was a master magician. He would appear out of no where when I was alone, yet disappear into thin air when my new prince was around. He's here. Poof. Gone. Here. Poof. Gone.

Charlie wanted to get married right away. We started dating in November, he gave me a ring in December, and he wanted the wedding to take place in March, 1975. This is what I had been waiting for. This is what I wanted: marriage, babies, happily ever after. I was excited yet anxious; happy yet unsettled; eager but hesitant, and it was my hesitancy that moved the wedding to August. Whew! Breathing room. My fairy tale was moving too fast. I needed to spend more time in the enchanted forest with my prince before heading out into happily ever after. And, boy, am I so glad I did.