The prince clambered through the rose vines, hacking away at the branches, bloodying his fingers as they scraped against the thorns.

After many trials and tribulations and other non-specific hardships that fairytales are made of, he arrived at the castle. Being a hero, he knew exactly how to get to the princess’ bedroom. As he lay his gaze upon her, his heart pounded furiously within his chest, as he basked in the beauty that was her form.

And so, he did what any handsome prince would do: he kissed her. Taking advantage of unconscious minors is what princes do best.

You have to wonder what the witch was thinking. Perhaps she was a voyeur who got off on watching innocent young girls be taken advantage of, and so went around bestowing sleep instead of death upon young virgin girls. Virgins were very popular back then. Every fairytale had at least one.

Anyways, he kissed her. She sprung awake. They had mad, passionate sex. Or maybe just lustful sex. Can passion exist after a two-minute speed date? Life isn’t all Harlequin. But maybe fairytales are.

Lust or passion? Irrelevant.

The next obvious step was a wedding. Of course, he was going to marry her; this was a fairytale after all. He didn’t climb through the brambles just for sex, no matter how good it was. If it was just sex he was after, he could buy some at the local watering hole.

So, they got married. And lived happily ever after

Fairytales make the “ever after” sound so peaceful.

Whoever thought up this line was a fucking genius. “I’m done, reader. I don’t know where the story goes next. Go on. Take your biases and come to your own conclusions.”

The truth is never as pretty.

The Pea Princess. That idiot of a prince who stuck the pea under her mattress. She was stuck with back pains for the rest of her life. Spent a fortune on chiropractors. She ended up suing him for everything he had.

But I digress.

So, a pedophilic prince awakens our sleeping princess.

By the fourth year of their marriage, they have 6 kids. Being a prince, he refuses to help with diaper duty. Or night duty. Or taking the kids to the dentist.

By year five, she’s had enough.

She takes her children, moves to Far Enough Away, works two jobs to pay the bills, manages to get the kids through high-school.

I hear she doesn’t let her kids read fairytales.