The Fall of the Prince

 For the last few fortnights, my precious abode has been ruled by a tiny prince.  This prince, while handsome and cheerful by nature, also has inherent destructive qualities. He was meandering the rooms, crushing household keepsakes under his hands, teeth and feet.  Too often did I, the queen, my husband and sweet king, and our two bright-eyed princesses weep and mourn over the loss of our treasures at their fate from his chubby fingers and sharp ivories!  His regime left all fearing and trembling in his wake, for who knew when the tyranny would end?  Would any of us even survive to tell our children's children of the terror we endured?

In the evenings, after his highness drifted off towards pleasant dreams in his royal crib upstairs, I would lay awake in my makeshift room and fantasize about overthrowing his lordship.  I envisioned traps and magical spells to quell his wild antics.  I prayed for time for move faster so the little prince would outgrow his ruinous interests!   My dreams, however, failed to rise to reality. 

Seven days ago my fair mother blessed me with a splendid idea.  She, also vexed by the prince's reign over my territory, questioned why I hadn't yet purchased a corral to hold him.  I quickly described my failed attempts to place this tiny male heir into a pack n' play.  I divulged my misery when he outsmarted my gate systems.  My eyes misted as I moaned about his triumphs over my chairs, my desks and my tables! We admitted that any solution I chose must be better than those I had already seen defeated. 

I took to Amazon.com, my technological accomplice.  I poured over its contents in search of the perfect weapon (all my activities I reserved for the dark of night, so as to elude the prince of my deception.)  Finally my weary eyes caught sight of the comfort they desired:


I sent for the package.  It arrived yesterday during the prince's nap (which couldn't have been timed better, I might add.)  My secret weapon did not even require my king's strength and expertise; it was already set up!

The colorful corral was quickly established in the office, the central hub of my kingdom.  When my prince awakened I gently placed him inside its secure walls. I went about my business, with one eye resting on his adorable, beguiling frame.

I unloaded my dishwasher.  I suffered no broken dishes or frights of him grabbing a sharp object.
Maximus played with his musical instrument.

I folded laundry.  I wept no tears for collapsed clothing piles.  My handsome prince played with his sister inside the pen.

I left the bathroom door open.  My reading materials stayed out of the toilet, and my son stayed in his new play spread. Oh, sweet, precious victory!

So goes my tale of the fall of the prince.  He has tumbled from his throne, but I am relieved to note that this tumble is a metaphor, not an actual fall from a chair or table, which I so feared.  I'm sure his fall from the top won't remain perfect.  He may fuss and cry and I will occasionally acquiesce to his mournful vocalizations...

I don't care though.  I won. :)