By JAMILA RIZVI
My dad was always the prettiest of the pretty princesses.
When I was around 7, my sister and I were fans of (okay, borderline obsessed with) a board game called Pretty Pretty Princess. Now you know those things with catchy titles or taglines but the experience never quite lives up to the hype?
This was NOTHING like that.
Imagine the most fun you’ve ever had. And then double it. And you’ve got Pretty Pretty Princess.
I can’t say I have a strong recollection of what you actually had to DO in the game but the important part is that as you moved around the board, you were rewarded with pieces of jewelery. The objective being, of course, to complete a matching set of clip-on earrings, rings, bracelets, anklets and necklaces in the colour of your choice (mine being pink. Obviously).
The first player to collect all of these sparkly pretty things was named the winner and crowned the Pretty Pretty Princess – there was a plastic silver tiara resplendent in multicoloured diamantes and everything.
And my dad – my super blokey, football watching, cricket playing, one-of-the-boys, work obsessed dad – he used to win ALL the time. (He was sneaky though, tried to collate the jewelry in a little pile in front of him instead of actually wearing it. But don’t worry – we were 7 and 3 – we didn’t let him get away with that kind of crap. He wore the jewels. Earrings and all.)
So when the team at Mamamia came across this beautiful video of typically ‘masculine’ fathers singing the lyrics of ‘Part of My World’ from The Little Mermaid – I got a tad emotional.
Why? Because that’s my dad.
A man who would probably have loved to have had a son. A man who grew up mucking around with his big brothers and the boys next door. A man who spent his teenage years playing cricket with the boys. And his uni days drinking at the bar and playing the pinball machines with his mates.
A man who was willing to do absolutely anything to make his very stereotypically feminine daughters, happy.
So I’m sharing this video with you today and asking you to share it with your community to say cheers. To say cheers to all the fathers of daughters.
For the hours they spent up late at night, singing us to sleep. For the painful process of teaching us to ride our bikes. For being there when the first boy broke our hearts. For shopping the tampon aisle for us while we were still too embarrassed. For getting us through our year 12 exams. And for every piece of advice in between and the support that continues for your whole life.
Thanks dad. For being part of my world.